Muggle in the Mix
by wolfd890
Summary: [COMPLETE] During the Summer between 5th and 6th year Dumbledore finds himself in need of a new muggle studies professor after a falling out with Charity Burbage. And who better to teach muggle studies than a Muggle! No Bashing, No Slash, No crazy power trips or outlandish abilities (O/C Professor x Tonks, Rated T for terribly cheesy ;)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

 **Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns HP, I own nothing. there, I said it!**

 **Authors Notes:**

 **Hello all, and welcome to my first ever Harry potter fan fiction work. I read lots of HP FF of course, and by far my main problem/concern will be to accurately represent the characters that will associate themselves with my OC. Unfortunately there aren't very many Muggle related works out there, unless of course you count the Crossover side of the this site. I welcome constructive criticism, and don't feel bad to call me out on spelling, grammar, etc. Drop a review if you feel like doing so, but no pressure. I hope you like what you see. cheers!**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry June 30th, 1996**

Dumbledore leaned back in his plush reclining chair, a heavily charmed relic of the former Headmaster Knabusch, who, before taking up position of Headmaster co-founded the now famous La-Z-boy company. The chair of course was as comfortable as ever, but what should have been a pleasant summer evening had turned into quite the headache for the Lemon Drop loving Wizard.

And for once it didn't involve his favored pupil! No, poor Harry was safe and sound with his relatives down in Surrey, most likely still grieving the death of Sirius Black. The headmaster silently cursed himself for letting his mind wander back to that place for the hundredth time since that fateful night. He blamed himself for not doing more to protect young Harry's mind from Tom.

He should have seen that the attack on Arthur was just a ploy to lure him into the Ministry. Fawkes must have sensed his familiar's plight and offered a cheerful chirp and trill, a small gesture which the old wizard appreciated.

No, his current conundrum was the loss a yet another professor at the hands of Professor Snape. Dumbledore sighed, mentally replaying the last ten minutes in his head. Professor Burbage, normally a very laid back, and shall we say mellow individual stormed into his office, hair disheveled, her face a blotchy red color. She looked like she'd cried recently. All in all not a very pretty sight. Upon inquiring about the reason for her unfortunate complexion the middle aged Witch explained her run-in with the Potions Master. The two had always butted heads, their views on the subjects of muggles being the key reason for the mutual dislike. No normally that wouldn't be cause for worry, but It seemed that one of Professor Burbage's relatives, a muggle, was on their death bed.

St Mungo's unfortunately doesn't treat non magicals, and her last remaining hope had been the Potions master and a rather expensive and time-consuming brew. It seemed that Snape had refused to help, stating that in all likelihood the potion she'd mentioned would at best prolong his suffering by a few months. And he'd said it in as unsympathetic a manner as possible.

That's when things spiraled out of control. Burbage called Severus a self-centered egotistical prick, while the potions mater retorted by calling her 'a muggle loving fool'.

Any attempts by the aging headmaster to calm the furious woman had failed, and before he could summon Poppy with a calming drought Charity had resigned in a fit of rage and tears. Nothing Dumbledore offered short of Severus's dismissal had swayed the Witch to reconsider, and finally she stormed out of the castle, bags packed, but not before hexing Snape's hair off. Dumbledore had to bite his lip to prevent the corners of his mouth lifting despite the seriousness of the situation.

And as such, he now had to fill both the Position of Potions Professor (due to Professor Snape teaching DADA) as well as the now vacant Muggle Studies position. With a sigh he helped himself to another sweet. Well, he supposed running a few ads in the Daily Prophet couldn't hurt. After all the summer had only just started.

 **Bellingham, Washington State, Western United States August 20th, 1996**

With a prolonged screech the worn door opened, then shut just as quick. A set of keys fell into a porcelain Bowl with a loud clank. Then a coat was carelessly tossed over the back of a worn Couch. That same couch squeaked loudly when the wary man who was the cause of all this ruckus plopped down with a defeated sigh.

'Another day of fruitless job hunting over' he thought, kicking off his shoes and letting his aching feet rest. After a few minutes of just sitting there in the dark he dragging himself up to get a cold one from the fridge.

Mentally calculating back, it had been over three months since graduation now. Three months of trying to gain some sort of meaningful employment. Three months of working at that god awful grocery store as a cart pusher. It was just enough to pay the rent for this dump. He popped the lid with a dirty fork, pausing long enough to flick the bottle cap in the general direction of the garbage can. It didn't hit. He didn't care. He'd gotten pretty good at that. Not caring that is. It was easier that way.

In the beginning he had hope. Fresh out of University with a teaching degree in his hand and a spring in his step. That thought made him snort. It had taken four years to get. And now, even though the Army had thankfully put him through school, all he basically had a fancy title and not much else.

'Well, at least there weren't any student loans to pay off.' He thought, ever the optimist. Ah hell, who was he kidding. Unless he moved to some sorry looking back Water County there was no way he'd ever land a position within this district. For every teaching position in the Tacoma area there were dozens of applicants. Yes, his grades had been good. But good just didn't seem to cut it anymore in this cut throat economy. Of course that thrice damned Bell curve grading system had also pushed him into a dangerously low region where most schools wouldn't even give his transcripts a passing glance.

That thought had manifested itself in his head a lot lately. Yeah, he'd grown up here. His parents still lived here. But unless something came up soon, moving to a more rural district no one wanted to be in would be the only option he had.

But where would he go? This wasn't like being deployed. No one told him where to go or what to do. The decision was his and his alone. You didn't just complete your tour of duty and come back. This would be permanent. At least until he had enough seniority. He could be gone for years, or maybe never return at all.

At this point the young man had still not turned on a single light in the small, dirty apartment. A sliver of pale yellow light from the street filtered into the space, but it did little to illuminate the rest of the room.

Looking into a bright fridge didn't help his vision either at the moment, so it wasn't until he was a few feet away that he sensed the presence of another. Nothing more than a dark silhouette, a foreign scent, and the calm but now audible sound of breathing reaching his ears.

Though poor, Carson Wolf had always made sure that he had the means to defend and protect himself if it came down to it. He lived in a rough part of Bellingham. Drug use was rampant on the streets, and crime was high. As such he always made sure there was a loaded firearm close by.

The one in his bedroom was out of the question, but there was another, a backup which he kept under the couch cushion. Careful not to look like he'd noticed the intruder, the former Lieutenant plopped back down, beer in one hand while his free one groped the underside of the couch for his old service Beretta.

The intruder, whoever he or she was, hadn't made a move, and for a second he worried that by sitting down he'd make him seem like an easier target. Pistol finally located, he cocked the hammer one-handed with a loud click and pointed it squarely at the figure sitting in the tattered old reclining chair.

"Don't move buddy" he calmly stated. He had no desire to shoot unless absolutely necessary, and a calm and collect voice was the best way to keep things from escalating.

'Hopefully the guy wasn't some crack head and could be reasoned with'.

An old voice was the first clue that he wasn't dealing with some common street thug. They usually didn't survive past thirty or forty. The second was the accent. It sounded British.

"Mr. Wolf", the clearly male voice began. "I am sorry to intrude on you like this. It seemed you were not home at the time of my initial arrival, and I opted to wait for you in the comfort of your home. Please forgive an old man for wanting to rest his weary bones."

Carson relaxed minutely. This home intruder was strange, but he wasn't going to let his guard down just because he sounded grandfatherly.

"Being old does not excuse breaking into someone's house" _,_ Carson replied coolly. He wasn't mad at the breach of privacy. Why he didn't know. Right now he wanted answers, and being hostile wasn't going to solve anything.

"You know my name." he said matter-of-factly, followed by his first question. "Who are you?"

His eyes were beginning to adjust, and he caught the smile from the bearded man's face. "Right down to business it seems. Very well, my name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am the Headmaster of a very special school in Scotland."

At this the younger man removed his finger from the trigger. He still didn't trust the old guy, but so far he'd been perfectly peaceful.

"You realize that you could have been killed. Breaking into someone's place here in the US is almost a sure-fire way of getting your ass shot. I don't know how they do it in Scotland, but you can't just do that here old man."

Carson felt a little bad for calling him that, but besides the initial common courtesy, one had to earn his respect. And busting into someone's house was the very opposite way of going about it. Ok, busting might have been the wrong word. The door certainly didn't look damaged. Had he lock picked it? Carson was sure he'd locked it before leaving.

The stranger called Albus Dumbelsomething chuckled.

"I assure you there was never any danger to my well-being, though I take it as a good sign that you are in fact mindful of mine, a complete stranger's welfare."

Carson sighed. This guy was a regular chatterbox _._ "All right, moving on. Why are you here? You mentioned a School. Why?"

"Ah yes. As I said my position is that of Headmaster at a Boarding School called Hogwarts. As for my reason for visiting", the old man continued in the same calm demeanor.

"You are a young aspiring teacher are you not?"

Not in his wildest dreams had Carson Wolf ever expected to have a conversation like this with what is essentially an employer in the teaching field in his dark, dirty living room at 9 pm on a Monday.

"Are you offering me a job?" he asked in disbelief.

The old man smiled again. "Not quite Mr. Wolf. This is more of an interview of sorts. You are on the short list of potential applicants that a close friend of mine provided me with."

Carson finally placed the pistol on the seat beside him. "I see," he replied almost automatically, followed by; "So, I take it you'd like to know what I majored in at the University of Washington?"

"That will be one of the questions, yes. But we'll get to your qualifications at a later date. Right now I am simply looking to judge everyone's character."

Carson's eyebrow rose in mock surprise.

"And you think you can glean whatever it is you're looking for from one meeting?" The younger man's tone was mocking, but not unkind.

Albus chuckled, again making eye contact. Muggles had no Occlumency defenses, so the intrusion went unnoticed. Besides the Headmaster was most gentle with his Legilimency probing. What he skimmed from the young man's mind was nothing out of the ordinary.

A fairly normal childhood, a brief rebellious streak that led to his enlistment in this countries armed forces. The training and structure did a lot of good he noted. The young lad even had some combat experience.

Nothing to traumatic, which was good. Too many of his own kind had been diagnosed with the shakes. Muggles called it something else entirely. No, the other two he'd visited would have made good teachers, but as mere muggles they would be vulnerable. This man thought on his feet. That much was apparent from his behavior and actions a mere minutes ago. Hogwarts might be a safe place, but its students sometimes forgot just how serious their actions could be.

"There is always more to a person than meets the eye my young friend." The Headmaster cryptically replied. Sometime later, their talk concluded, and Carson showed Dumbledore towards the door.

"Umm, a word of advice" the American added before seeing the strangely dressed man out. Dumbledore simply nodded with that weird twinkle in his eye. "Try not to pull the same stunt you just did with the others. They might be the shoot first ask later type, and I'd hate for you to get hurt."

"Duly noted" the old man replied with a chuckle. "Good night to you, Mr. Wolf."

"You too."

Carson watched the bearded man disappear down the hallway. He shook his head and closed the door, wondering what the hell just happened.

 **Bellingham, Washington State, Western United States August 22nd, 1996**

There was a knock on the door. The peephole showed a silver bearded man. Knowing his only day off this week was about to be ruined, Carson opened the door to the Scottish Headmaster of Hog Warts.

"Good day Mr. Wolf. I trust you've been well?" the old man asked jovially.

Carson stepped aside, gesturing the headmaster to enter before nodding in confirmation.

"It seems your advice was spot on", the strange senior idly commented before sticking his pinky through a jagged hole in his purple …robe?

The former Marine shook his head.

"You were shot at, weren't you?" He felt like he was berating a small child.

The old man grinned sheepishly. Dumbledore had not been talked to like this in almost a hundred years, though there was no reason for him to be upset at the tone. It was actually rather amusing.

"Well, considering you're up and about I can say with certainty you are uninjured?" Carson inquired.

"Indeed I am. Thank you for your concern."

Carson couldn't hold back a snort. "Right. So, to what do I owe the pleasure today Albus?" He was ashamed to admit that he'd forgotten his last name, much to his annoyance. His drill sergeant would have his ass if he ever forgot his.

"Well, it seems that I have come to a decision." At that the younger man froze. "And?" he asked tensely.

"Mr. Wolf, I am pleased to offer you a permanent fulltime position at Hogwarts" Albus stated proudly. He remembered every single one of the positions he'd offered to so many gifted individuals over the last two decades. This one was bound to be one of the more memorable.

Instead of feeling joy at finally being offered a job, Carson nodded cautiously.

"What position would I be teaching?" The fact that this hadn't come up in the previous conversation was beginning to concern the younger man. What kind of Headmaster would offer work to someone without discussing their qualifications. Also, wouldn't he have been contacted by the UK's ministry of education? Something was fishy.

"Ah yes, you must excuse my reluctance to reveal this next bit of information. You will be teaching a subject called Muggle studies."

Carson looked at the old man with a dumbfounded look. "What the hell is a Muggle?"

Dumbledore laughed. "Muggles are what my kind call you" he pointed with a long bony finger.

"You see, I am actually a wizard, and Hogwarts is a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The fact that that he said it so matter-of-factly was the final nail in Coffin. Carson sighed loudly before sitting down, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Jesus H Christ on a bicycle, how could I have been so stupid." he muttered. 'This guy must have escaped the Lonnie bin or something.'

Albus continued to smile, not helping his case any.

With a final sigh, Carson's head jerked up and he clapped his hands together.

"Right! You know, I can't really blame you, as much as I want to, and I'll admit it has been fun. But I think it's time to end this old timer. Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I call the nice people with the white coats, ok?"

The smile Dumbledore held was _still_ present, though there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

As Carson lifted the phones receiver, the old man pulled his wand and the phone turned into a turtle. Needless to say it wasn't what the younger American was expecting. In fact, he tripped over the couch, landing in a heap between the coffee table and the sofa. Dumbledore levitated the shelled animal gently to the floor lest it got hurt.

"HOLY S**T, what the hell was that?"

The older wizard cleared his throat, and reiterated his previous comment. "As I said before Mr. Wolf, I am a wizard."

Carson leapt to his feet. What he'd just seen was IMPOSSIBLE. One second he'd been holding a phone, the next a god damn turtle. Which was now slowly making its way across the kitchen linoleum, he noted in disbelief.

'Who the hell was this guy?' Unable to form coherent thoughts, Albus willed some more of his magic through the Wand.

"I see you need another demonstration." Wand still in hand, the couch that separated them morphed into a Lion. The 9mm clattered to the ground, along with about 5 bucks in loose change and a few Cheetos.

Carson backed up slowly, not daring to retrieve the gun that would be the only way to save his ass right now. The army hadn't covered this. Basic and Officer training hadn't covered this. And why should they? There was a god damn lion in his living room. Shit!

The large cat growled at him, baring its yellowed teeth. The mane was a deep auburn, while the rest of its fur looked yellow. With a whistle, the large cat lazily walked over to the purple robed…Magician?

"You needn't worry. It will not harm you." He assured the panicked young man.

With the cat a fair distance away, the former Marine saw his opportunity and rolled across his now bare living room floor, retrieved the gun and was in the process of pointing it at the large carnivore when it was ripped from his hand.

"You have excellent reflexes Mr. Wolf. But I'm afraid I can't let you shoot your couch." With another flick of the wrist the lion turned back into the ratty sofa, now positioned awkwardly in the kitchen. Dumbledore sat down, and conjured a chair from nothing for his host to sit down on.

Seeing he was out of options, Carson complied, though reluctantly.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but I beseech you to hold onto them until you see the school. That is, should you in fact still be interested in the position."

Carson was working his mouth like the carp he'd seen once at Lake Mead. Finally, he uttered. "I need a bit to process this."

The Headmaster nodded in confirmation. "Perhaps that would be best"

A few minutes later it seemed the young man was ready.

"So, you're a…?"

"Wizard?" Dumbledore supplied. "Indeed I am."

Carson nodded.

"And there's a whole school of for people like you?" Another nod, this time from the Headmaster.

" _Magic?"_ the former Lieutenant said. Albus couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement.

For every question answered, even if it was only a simple yes, about ten more sprung forth.

He recalled the previous offer from two nights ago. "You want to show me Hog Warts?"

"Yes, and its Hogwarts"

Carson ran a hand through his hair. _'To hell with it. The guy had the jump on me from the minute I entered my apartment two days ago. Hell, he could have mauled me with that Lion he's sitting on.'_

Mind made up, he looked up at the strange magician. _"Sure. Why not."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Chapter 2**

 **Ministry of Magic Atrium, London, England August 23rd, 1996**

Carson Wolf immediately found out that he didn't like magical transport very much. After grabbing onto what looked like an innocent looking teddy bear (missing an eye), he was pulled by his stomach at immense speed until landing very hard in some sort of Atrium full of chimneys. Only his old training kept him from serious injury, rolling and taking the brunt of the impact with his shoulder before even registering where he was. Then he hurled this morning's cheerios all over the polished wood floor, much to the disgust of several passerby's. The old man chuckled, and with a wave the mess was banished. (Lord only knew where Dumbledore and all the others banished their sick to.)

"Urrrgh, that was terrible" the young man groaned while hunched over, hands resting on his knees.

"Please tell me we don't have to do that again."

"No, not unless you wish to return to the United States." The old man answered in a far too cheerful voice. Sadistic Prick.

He shook his head enthusiastically, and the two headed towards the security checkpoint. The gray suited ministry guard confiscated Dumbledore's wand, but looked confused when the younger stranger handed him a black metal muggel artifact. The headmaster chuckled lightly at the reaction, but said nothing.

"Pretty tight security." Carson casually stated. "Is it always like this around here?" The former Marine easily spotted the brown coats lingering in the most strategically placed locations around the lobby. 'Clear lines of fire, easily defensible positions, and good cover close by. These guys had training. They also looked nervous.'

The older man sighed, for the first time showing his true age. "No Mister Wolf, but in light of recent events it became necessary once more." Clearly Dumbledore didn't wish to explain at the moment, so the younger man didn't press. He did wish for his sidearm back though. The looks he was receiving were at best disinterested. Most just looked at him suspiciously, like he was going to pull an RPG from behind his back and blow up the lobby's statue.

They passed various offices on the main floor before stopping in front of an ancient looking elevator. When the metal door screeched open, several paper airplanes zipped out, followed by more strangely dressed folks.

They emerged on another floor, walked through countless cubicle farms, before stopping in a small and rundown section of the ministry. The bronze plaque above the office read; Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.

At this point Carson felt like he was just along for the ride. Like a tourist in a foreign land. Then he realized he was in fact in another country. England, according to the old man. Using nothing more than a stuffed animal to get there. There was a slight headache coming on, one which he was sure would balloon exponentially by the end of the day. 'Best just not to think about it too much', he thought while pinching his the bridge of his nose.

"Arthur!" Dumbledore greeted the middle-aged man with flaming red hair jovially. "Good to see you again. How are molly and the kids doing?"

The two spoke for a few more minutes while Carson had a look around. The office was cluttered with a hodgepodge of items. Everything from eating utensils to a running lawnmower in the corner. It simply idled there. No exhaust, not even any noise until he was about a foot away. Backing away, then back forward, he was puzzled by how such a thing was possible. Was this a cursed lawnmower?

The two wizards in the room turned their attention to the curious young man.

"Is this the muggle you were telling me about?" There was definite excitement in Arthur's voice.

Carson turned away from the magical mower to greet the exited Wizard.

"Arthur Weasley!" the man practically shouted. "So very pleased to meet you." The man shook Carson's hand vigorously. Immediately after the exited red haired man began to bombard his visitor with all kinds of questions. He horribly mispronounced a number of items, and Carson had to hold back his laughter out fear of insulting the man. He seemed nice, and was the first person here besides Dumbledore to actually take interest in him.

Carson politely answered all of his questions until the Headmaster cleared his throat.

"Oh yes, right! The documents! "The man turned to his desk, shuffling around a pile of papers.

"Arthur was nice enough to gather the required forms to integrate you into Magical Society.," Dumbledore explained. "You will retain your name, and will be given Squib status."

"Squid what?"

"Squibs. Oh right, they are non-magicals born to wizards or witches. Not very common, but it does happen. Most of them choose to live with muggles. There seems to be an unfortunate double standard towards them."

Carson was not thrilled to be called a squib. Even muggle sounded better than that he had to admit.

"Now, the last bit of paperwork regards our society's statue of secrecy." He pushed the yellow parchment in front of the young man. "It is similar to your government's 'Non disclosure Act'."

Carson shrugged, signing the document as well. "Not like anyone would believe me anyway. But hey, if it makes you happy by all means."

"Excellent." There was that damn twinkle again. "Now that that's all settled, shall we proceed to Hogwarts?"

Carson's easy going expressions fell off his face, replaced instead with a look of dread. "I'm not touching that Teddy Bear again."

oOo

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry August 23rd, 1996**

Floo travel, while still somewhat strange (but what wasn't) was infinitely more preferable to that horrible key port thing. Again he had come out on the other side with great speed, and again he rolled to break the fall. Only this time there was a solid oak desk in the way. Fawkes watches in surprise, then amusement as the human came flying out of the fireplace with a green 'WOOSH', then the dull thud and groan as he hit. The headmaster casually strolled out of the flames smelling like a rose, so to speak. Carson had a snarky remark on his lips but paused when he noticed the dozens of eyes on him.

Moving eyes.

Belonging to moving pictures. He stared at them, forgetting that he was about to insult the bearded Wizard.

"Albus!" a rather serious picture hollered. "I just received word from my twin in the ministry. How dare you bring a muggle here, let alone allow IT to teach!"

Not sure of what to say, said muggle simply raised his eyebrows, as if to say; 'oh really?'

"Now, now Sagittarius, we've talked about your behavior before. Things are different now. I will not have you slander Professor Wolf here, nor any other staff or muggle born students. I will flip your portrait to face the wall if you keep up this behavior, understood?"

The man in the frame huffed in defeat, but continued to glare at the younger man. Carson gave him the two fingered salute and turned back to take in the rest of the Office. There were spinning instruments, old and dusty tomes on overtaxed bookshelves, and last but not least a rather large Butterball sitting on a perch next to the rich hardwood desk.

Noting his newest staff member's obvious fatigue Dumbledore decided it was a good time to show the man to his classroom and attached sleeping quarters. Then he un-shrunk Carson's meager belongings and bid the young man good night. Tomorrow he'd get a tour of the castle, and meet the other staff.

oOo

A new day dawned in the Scottish Highlands. In another week the blissful piece that had prevailed over the summer would be shattered with the arrival of hundreds of rowdy magical school children. The staff sighed longingly at another year sure to be filled with trouble makers, detentions, and general mayhem. On the bright side that bitch Umbridge was gone, and while she might have been a terrible person, all of the staff secretly thanked her for driving out the Weasley twins. There were still damp spots in front of the great hall from that swamp they conveniently left there.

And so, at eight am the staff came together for their first meal of the day. That is, all but one.

"Albus, are you sure the lad knows where to find us?" Minerva asked between sips of her Earl Gray.

She was curious about her new colleague despite him being a non-magical. Surly Albus wouldn't have picked him if the boy didn't have some form of Education. Oh, she was certain he knew more about Muggles than all of the staff combined. But teaching was not something anyone could do. Just look at Snape.

Breakfast came and went, and by 11 am the deputy Headmistress felt it was time to check in on their new professor. The classroom was unlocked, and a quick peek confirmed it to be empty. 'He couldn't still be asleep'. With more of a 'head of house' attitude she knocked on the wood door. "Mr. Wolf, are you in there?"

No answer. After a few more seconds she repeated the process, knocking with enough vigor that it sounded more like banging. Finally the door swung open to reveal a partially clothed young man sporting a rather impressive case of bed head. He looked barley conscious.

"What?" he half hissed half asked.

"Professor Wolf. You didn't show up for breakfast, and I began to worry." McGonagall supplied, trying to keep the disappointment out of her tone. So he was sleeping.

"Tell me", she added cautiously. "Is it normal for muggles to sleep in this late?" She saw his eye twitch in annoyance.

"Ma'am, I'm sure you're not familiar with the term, so I'll explain myself this once. Up until yesterday my sleep schedule revolved around Pacific Time. If I remember correctly this Castle is located in Scotland. That's about 8 hour's difference. I'm experiencing what is called 'Jet lag'."

Without another word, the irritated youngster (compared to her) shut the door, leaving her speechless.

That evening dinner was the first real introduction between the grouchy Muggle professor and the rest of the staff. He seemed polite enough, but the face of the Transfiguration teacher said it all.

Carson cursed himself for being so rude to the Woman on their first encounter. So his first action of course was to walk up to where she was sitting and publically apologize. After all, they would be working together soon, and he'd hate to make an enemy simply because of his sleeping habits. She accepted, though was still rather cool when addressing him.

Apart from the brief interactions during mealtimes, Carson had chosen to isolate himself for the days prior to the beginning of term. Yes, he wanted to learn as much about magic as possible, but he'd been hired to be a teacher, and that was above all his first priority.

Seated behind his new desk in his classroom (the thought still made him smile) he looked over Mrs. Burbage's syllabus for each year. Then he tore the damn thing apart because of how ridiculously easy it was.

The third and fourth years however stayed the same…mostly, with the latter being marginally harder. Better to ease them into it rather than slam the book down hard. After all he wanted the pint sized magic users to like him. The sixth and seventh years weren't so lucky, and would be in for a surprise.

Speaking of surprises, there was next to no practical aspects to Muggle studies. It was all theory. He'd have to talk to the Headmaster about that. There was a broad range of skills that these kids should have if they wanted to blend in with the real world. Field trips would definitely be in order.

This class used to be called the easy alternative to Arithmancy (basically math from what Professor Vector told him) and Ancient Runes. The later was something which he was eager to learn, seeing how one needed very little magic to make them work.

That would change. He cackled evilly, imagining the poor kiddies faces after handing out the revised class outlines in a few days' time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Chapter 3**

 **Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, September 1st, 1996**

A mob of youngsters descended on the great hall like a horde of Locust, the buzzing of several hundred conversations only overshadowed by their ravenous hunger. It was like watching a battalion of Marines storm into a mess hall on Spaghetti Night after two weeks of MRE's and Spam, Carson thought with a grin.

The staff members were all waiting at their table looking like the world was coming to an end. Honestly, one would think they didn't like their jobs or something. Snape looked like he'd sucked on a lemon. Dumbledore _was_ sucking on a Lemon…drop.

The students were seated, and shortly thereafter the tiny first years shuffled in from one of the side entrances. There was a talking Hat that liked to rhyme (at this point Carson wasn't even fazed anymore) Introductions were made for himself and a portly fellow named Slughorn, and finally, finally the food appeared, as if by magic (he'd really have to stop thinking of it like that)

He was getting a fair share of looks during the feast, but the young Professor just thought it was thanks to his clothes. Everyone wore these baggy looking monotone black robes. The only color was each student's tie, in recognition to whatever house they were in. Pom…Pomoro… Professor Sprout explained the House politics one night during dinner. The Snakes and Lions hated each other's guts, the Ravens were nerds, and her Badgers did just that. Badger people if they didn't have any friends. Not a bad thing he reckoned. The Hufflepuffers were most likely to forge relationships outside of their house as a result. Loyalty above else. Woot. Honestly, it was all the woman had droned on about throughout dinner that night.

He took a long sip from his goblet and glanced at the Green table, where the mood was the subdued. He received nasty looks from a number of students, mainly the older ones. Dumbledore had warned him not to approach them if at all possible. They were the most likely to cause him harm, and the way the old man made it sound it wasn't likely to be a bar fight kind of hurt.

Following the warning he sought out the charms professor and gotten the down low on some of the more vicious hexes and curses, including the unforgivables. Flitwick had explained and even demonstrated a few of the 'lighter' blasting and cutting curses on some conjured dummies.

After that he'd strapped the Beretta to his leg. There was no chance in hell he was going to go out there unarmed. He'd told the headmaster that kneecaps were fair game if he was attacked, no if ands or buts. The Bearded Wizard had frowned at the ultimatum but reluctantly agreed. He made a mental note to ask Poppy to double the inventory of Skelegrow at the next staff meeting.

The fact that most if not all students over 5th year knew at least some of these offensive spells made Carson's blood run cold. These were hormonal teenagers with the Muggle equivalent of military grade weapons at their fingertips.

Wands were like the magic version of Swiss army knives. Except instead of a can opener and screwdriver these had flamethrowers and grenade launchers. This place was a ticking time bomb, he thought for the millionth time while glancing at the sea of heads.

The student body must have read his mind, because not ten feet away two of the older boys got into a scuffle, possibly over a girl who was trying in vain to keep them apart. One of them pulled a Wand, but before he could cast the other boy grabbed his opponent's wand hand as well. Multicolored lights shot from the offensive wooden stick in various directions as they grappled for control.

His training kicked in, and before the first teacher had even stood up Carson was over the table, had pulled the two teens apart, thrown the one with the wand over his shoulder, and had pinned his arm painfully behind his back. All in under three seconds.

The boy, a rather large blonde Huffelpuff was unceremoniously hauled to his feet by Sprout and dragged off to her office. He paused to straighten out his shirt and glanced across the Hall, meeting the eyes of most students. The ones in the back had stood up to watch the fight.

Hand to hand combat was rare in the Wizard Community. Only Aurors received some formal training, and even then it was rudimentary. This new muggle studies Prof. knew his stuff.

He quickly excused himself and followed the Herbology teacher, not quite trusting the motherly woman with that blonde haired punk. If these kids were like this all the time he'd have to buy body armor. The new Prof. hauled the second teen away by the scruff of his shirt, ignoring his protests and feeble thrashing about. The Hall was deathly silent for a few more seconds before returning to the task at hand, which was inhaling as much food as possible before the plates vanished.

oOo

 **Hogwarts Muggle studies Classroom September 2nd, 1996**

Observing the rowdy class of 6th years reminded him fondly of his own experiences in High School. So with a smile on his face and taking a page out of his former P.E. teacher's book Carson pressed his index finger and thumb together, then whistled loud enough for those seated in the back of the class to cringe. All chatter ceased.

"Good!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Now that I have your full and undivided attention let's begin."

He sloppily scribbled his name on the Blackboard, not even bothering to keep the letters even remotely horizontal or the same size. "I'm Professor Wolf. I've been given the opportunity to take over for your previous teacher, Professor Burbage."

He casually sat on the corner of the teacher's desk and clasped his hands together. "Let's start with questions, 'cause from the looks of it you seem to have quite a few. Yes," he pointed at the raised hand in the middle of the row. "Mister…?"

"Finnigan sir. Why aren't you wearing robes like the rest of the staff?" The kid had a strong Irish accent.

Carson smiled brilliantly.

"It's rather simple actually. For one, I think they look tacky. But more importantly, I was called to Hogwarts rather abruptly so all of my clothes are actually Muggle in nature."

"Why do you only wear Muggle clothes?" This from a brunette Ravenclaw. "And why didn't you use your wand to break up that fight at the Feast?"

The teacher nodded, glad they were getting the big stuff out of the way first.

"Well, the most straight forward answer to those questions would have to be…" he paused, letting the tension in the room build a little more. "…because I'm a Muggle."

The room exploded in exited chatter and questions.

"I thought Muggles cannot see Hogwarts for what it really is." Students weren't even bothering with hands anymore.

"Correct… Miss Abbott", Carson replied after gleaning her name from the seating arrangement next to him. "To be honest with you I've only known of the existence of magic for about a week, when the Headmaster turned my living room couch into a Lion."

The fact that no one seemed to find the last part out of the ordinary disturbed him a little. He briefly imagined getting mauled by a Zoo animal in the hallway one day because someone thought it would be funny to turn a suit of armor into a wild beast. Shaking the thought from his head he continued.

"My understanding of your world is limited at best. However, to answer your question, I believe that the Headmaster himself cast a series of...charms? on myself. Needless to say I can now observe and react to my surroundings just as well as any of you. And no, before you ask. A Finite will not work on them, so don't even try. Next question."

This continued for about ten minutes, after which he checked at his wristwatch and drew the Q & A to a close. While handing out the course outline, he explained his intentions for this year's class.

"I realize the coming year will be your N.E.W.T year, though frankly I haven't the faintest idea what NEWT stands for." He clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing in front of the board, no longer able to stand looking at their horrified expressions with a straight face.

"I was made aware of what is required of me to cram into your craniums to pass this class, and so I shall. Now normally that would be it, however I feel the need to educate you poor sheltered mini wizards that there is so much more to my world than what you can find in this little book here." He carelessly tossed a copy of 'Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles' on his desk.

"You and the seventh year class will be my Guiney pigs for this year." There was a malicious sparkle in his eye as he rested his hands on the Teachers desk.

"In addition to the standard sixth year muggle studies curriculum, there will be a practical side to this class. I've discussed this with the Headmaster, and he wholeheartedly agrees. Therefore, I've decided that at the end of term you will all join me on a field trip into London.

There will also be several smaller outing throughout the year, weather permitting of course. Some of these may fall on a weekend" (que the groans) "However, I assure you it will be well worth your time. You will of course receive extra credits for these field trips."

That mollified the group somewhat, though he didn't 'feel the love' so to speak. Then Carson threw the wrench into the works, obliterating any sort of positive first impression he'd forged.

"Oh, and for those of you who are Muggle born, I've cranked the difficulty on your assignments up to keep you from slacking. More detail will be expected of you. The half dozen or so Witches and Wizards in question muttered barely audible obscenities in their cute British accents. Carson resisted the urge to cackle evilly.

oOo

"Is it true you called the Hogwarts school robes tacky?" Carson was busy digging into his mashed potatoes at the staff table that evening when his fellow professor Aurora Sinistra asked the question.

"Maybe" he replied shrewdly before taking another bite. The dark skinned witch was by far the closest in age to himself, and the two got along well once the Ice had broken.

She shook her head in amusement before they launched into their daily discussions about magical vs muggle life. The Astronomy teacher had been invaluable in teaching him customs and the more mundane aspects of the Wizarding world.

After dinner the young man headed back to his classroom. The first batch of Essays had come in, and he was eager to see where his new pupils stood, academically speaking. The moving stairs were a huge pain in the ass. It seemed they knew he was different, and as such never seemed to co-operate with his comings and goings.

As such he ended up two floors above his own, and instead to trying to get back down the way he came the young man opted to use the lesser traveled spiral staircase below the astronomy tower. At least the damned thing couldn't move!

He passed a strange painting of a man wearing a pink tutu, surrounded by trolls. As he rounded the corner the new professor ran into a trio of green and black robed sixth years coming out of a doorway. A doorway he noted that faded into the stone wall after they exited. He expected them to pass without a word uttered, but found himself blocked by two miniature gorillas in student outfits. They were the same height as him, but must have a good 50lbs on him easy.

"Step aside please" he requested calmly. On the inside he cursed at his rotten luck. These punks were looking for trouble.

Malfoy had spent the last two hours working on the bloody cabinet without a stitch of progress. Fed up with it and with dinner drawing to a close, he threw the linen sheet over the wooden furniture piece and marched out of the cluttered room.

Crabbe and Goyle's disguises had worn off, and they were back to their stupid, ugly selves.

The young Malfoy's blood ran cold when he saw someone approach, and it outright froze when it turned out to be a Professor. But luck was on his side. It turned out to be that filthy Muggle the Senile old fool had hired to replace the muggle loving whore.

He had no wand, and saw where he'd just come from. Draco silently gestured his goons to stop the lesser man. He'd Obliviate the fool and dump him in one of the lower story corridors. Or perhaps drop him in one of the girl's washrooms with a few empty bottles of booze. Yes, the blonde teen smirked. This would be fun.

Carson moved at the first sign of trouble, jabbing the boy on the left lightly in the temple as he drew what must have been a wand. The second goon he pulled in front of him to avoid the colored light shooting from the third and smaller student's wand.

His human shield dropped like a sack of potatoes, and the young teacher rolled to avoid a second red burst of light. Flitwick had told him what the spell colors represented. Red meant stunners. Not the worst thing all things considering, but if he got hit he might never wake up. The pistol was out of the question. He'd get fired for dropping a student like that, even if he didn't start it.

But as luck would have it his mail in order arrived yesterday. The contents of that package was one of the first commercially available Advanced Taser M-series systems available for the public. It had been tucked in his jeans' waistband all day, but was now firmly pressed against his palm after finishing the roll.

Crouched and behind a stone pillar for cover, two thin wires shot from the weapon and dug into the teens thigh. A half second later the distinct click,click,click of 50,000 volts coursing through the assailant's body echoed through the hallway. Malfoy couldn't even scream, instead grunting before falling to the floor. Carson kept the trigger depressed while he rose and kicked the still dazed Crabbe in the head, knocking him out. By then Malfoy was a drooling vegetable on the floor.

With all three incapacitated, he collected their wands and produced three heavy duty zip ties, which he used to bind their hands behind their backs. Confident that they wouldn't be going anywhere for a while, the slightly shaken up Muggle headed for the Headmasters Office.

The three Slytherins were still where he'd left them when the Teachers returned. Carson found out the hard way that he hated Snape when the man accused him of assaulting his students, but after giving statements and reviewing his memory in a stone bowl called a Pensieve (he'd have to get one of those!) he was free to go.

The kid that had tried to stun him got 6 weeks of solid detention, having somehow managed to avoid expulsion. The bookends each received a weeks' worth. Slytherin lost all the points it had managed to accumulate during the last week and a half.

Dumbledore was not happy that his new teacher had been targeted in such a way, but was pleased at the same time that the young man had chosen not to seriously harm the students in question.

He was most intrigued by this _Taser_ the young man had shown him. It looked to be a muggle equivalent of a stunner. Most ingenious indeed for Muggles to invent such a device. Reviewing the incident had raised several questions about what young Draco's intentions that night were.

He of course saw the door the youth had exited, but revisiting the corridor had revealed no such entryway. He had no way of knowing if the memory had been faulty or not, seeing how a Pensieve had never been used in conjunction with Muggle.

He leaned back in his recliner, once again with a lemon drop in his mouth, pondering the use of mind reading against the Blonde haired 6th year.

 **Authors Notes: For this story to work handheld pistol handled Tasers were invented in early '96 as opposed to '99. I didn't realize that the events depicted happened almost twenty years ago until I started researching events and dates for this story. You know, stuff like what day August 22nd fell on in '96. Next chapter will pull Tonks into the story. There won't be a 50k word beating around the bush with how you feel part. Both of them are adults, and it will move quite rapidly, though hopefully not so fast that it looks like the O/C is a man whore. As always thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Chapter 4**

 **Sorry about the length, this one kinda ran off on me.**

 **Hogwarts, Scotland September 26th, 1996**

Professor Wolf stumbled out of his private quarters attached to the MS classroom looking a little worse for wear. He'd slacked off for the first few weeks in regards to discipline, and the students had gradually become rowdier since beginning of term as a result. When it became out of hand, the detentions and point deductions were heavy, forcing him to keep the worst offenders in his classroom until early into the morning.

Sure, he was used to running on nothing more than a few hours of sleep thanks to his days in the Corps, but that had a lot to do with the tar like coffee the Marines favored. No such luck here. Only Tea and that vile Pumpkin Juice that the student body lived on.

By the end of the first week the other professors knew not to make small talk with the young muggle sitting in their midst first thing in the morning. His attitude almost rivalled that of their Potions master around that time of day.

Carson idly picked at his food using the fine silverware, wondering how much air freighting a bag of Columbia's finest would set him back when he saw the very answer to all of life's problems. There! Sitting on the green table; Slyther something. The Professor really ought to memorize the names of the houses. He moved with the grace of a charging rhino, never taking his eye off the prize. The sudden movement caught a lot of people's attention, though he paid them no mind.

A 6th year student with raven black hair and olive skin, holding what was clearly a steaming cup of glorious Joe. He had to have it!

"Hey kid", Carson greeted in a gravelly voice. "How much for a cup of whatever you have there."

Zabini, who was just beginning to wake up himself recognized all the signs of withdrawal on the man's face. Before he could so much as open his mouth that insufferable git Malfoy beat him too it.

" _What the hell is a dirty Muggle like you doing at our table?"_ the young blonde sneered with every bit of venom as if he were talking to Potter.

"Zip it Sparky",Carson snapped back. "And so help me god if you talk to me like that again I'll taze you again, only this time I'll hold down the trigger until the batteries run out of juice or the other staff pry the damn thing from my fingers. And 10 points from whatever the hell your house is called for your sass."

Draco's look of disgust morphed into one of barely contained rage, sprinkled with a healthy amount of fear.

"That is, if you even have any points left."

The remark was loud enough to reach the Gryffindors, who snickered at how fast Malfoy had been shut down by a man who had less magic than a Squib. Word had spread of their fateful encounter in the hallway a few days prior. It seems that Draco got a firsthand experience of how fond Muggles really are of electricity.

Several Gryffindors, with the help of a short science lesson from Professor Wolf kept zapping Malfoy as they passed him in the hallway. Static Discharge, they thought, was a great thing.

Blaise, pleased at his housemate's treatment by the teacher conjured another cup and filled it from the thermos.

"This one's on the house"he answered with a satisfied grin. The Italian didn't have anything against Muggles, and anyone who can put the Ferret in his place was alright in his book.

The Professor gave him a grateful smile before returning to the staff table, half the cup's contents already consumed. Before sitting down he lifted the mug at the Serpent House in thanks. There were a few amused faces, but most just glared.

Snape looked murderous, no doubt having heard the brief exchange between his godson and that good for nothing colleague. The other teachers wore a mixed bag of barley suppressed smirks or stern disapproval, the primary of the latter emanating from McGonagall. It seemed he was still walking on eggshells with the woman, Carson thought with a sigh.

A few days later the Muggle Studies Prof. ascended the circular staircase leading to the castle's Owlery. It was late, but it had taken almost an hour to get his thoughts on paper(or parchment in this case) It didn't help that he'd been looking for this place for 15 minutes, but it wasn't like there was anyone around to ask for directions at this time of night. The portrait he's woken simply swore at him for doing so. He could have waited till next morning, but was eager to send the large letter to his parents off.

In it he explained of his absence, and how he'd found employment in his filed abroad. Of course he left out that he was in a wizarding school. He doubted they'd believe him anyway, so he didn't bother.

Near the top he noticed another Student, a raven haired boy with round glasses. The kid didn't look to have any business up here. After wrestling with one of the school owls and bribing it to take the letter over the pond, he decided that the silence was getting a little to awkward.

"You're not waiting for a girl are you? 'cause you know the Astronomy tower is wayyy better for that sort of thing than this place." The boy opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, at a loss of what to say. "You might even be able to bribe Sinistra to look the other way for an hour or so. She's a sucker for muggle chocolate bars." he added helpfully.

Harry finally managed to squeak out a flustered 'No sir', causing the older man to shrug his shoulders in acceptance at his answer.

Harry had come up here for some solitude actually. The nightmares were worse than ever, and lately he'd been thinking of Sirius more. Nowhere he went was private it seemed, and the Room of Requirement was always occupied by someone these days.

Seeing that the teenager wasn't about to open up about what was eating him Carson took his leave.

"Well, I won't intrude on you any longer then. See ya around kid."

The Muggle was by the door when Harry called his name.

"Professor Wolf, isn't it?"

Carson nodded.

"Thanks for not punishing me for being out this late." He could almost feel the sadness wafting off the teen. He was all for giving people a dressing down, but only those who had it coming. And quite frankly the kid looked like he'd been through the wringer.

"Wasn't even aware we had a curfew." He replied with a grin. After opening the door and paused.

"If you ever need someone to talk to my door's always open. Nice meeting you Mr?"

"Potter sir. Harry Potter."

Harry simply stood there, glad to finally have met a Muggle that wasn't a huge arsehole like his relatives.

oOo

 **Road near Hogsmeade, Scotland September 29th, 1996**

It was nearing October, and with it came the first visit to Hogsmeade. Of course being a teacher meant he could go whenever he damn well pleased. So the afternoon before the first school sanctioned outing the young Professor strolled down the well-worn path with the intention on exploring the little Wizarding village at his own leisure, without having to navigate around a mob of screaming kids. The long walk gave him time to reflect.

The new Professor had only learnt of the existence of the community a few miles away from the castle last week during the weekly staff meeting. The discussion then was the continued threat to the students from the home grown magical terrorist group. He'd waited for a name, but details about the group were kept under wraps.

Ultimately permission was granted, but concessions were made as well. The trips were shorter than usual and there was a beefed up police presence in the village. He expected Dumbledore to pull him aside to catch him up on the state of things, but that talk never came. His gut was telling him there was something happening, but without anything else to go on he continued playing along as the blind and ignorant outsider. For now anyway.

The quaint looking community became visible as he crested the next hill. The buildings had an old English cottage feel, with wood shingled roofs, stone walls, and a general medieval appearance.

Living at a boarding school had its perks. Not having to pay for room and board meant Carson had a fair amount of disposable income, and he was eager to lighten his money pouch (for some reason these people liked to pay for everything in coins) The sweetshop was all right, though he didn't trust half the stuff in there.

The shop owner did enlighten him as to why so many of his students were fainting and getting nose bleeds all the time. Nosebleed Nougats! Those little bastards! He vowed to utterly punish anyone who'd played hooky in the last month. Perhaps it was time to begin the Physical Education aspect of his class.

He was no drill sergeant, but all Officers had to learn to bark order. Oh yes, he'd run them into the ground alright. Carson left with thank you and a few candy bars for to snack on while grading papers, nothing more. The book store thankfully carried muggle supplies, and he quickly purchased a few note pads and a nice ball point pen.

In red.

Perhaps he'd make it mandatory for the students to write with the muggle utensils as well. After going through Zonko's with a fine tooth comb the young man headed for the local watering hole. The stores had closed, and he was getting thirsty.

oOo

Tonks had just finished her shift, and was eager to kick up her feet (not that Rosmerta would actually let her do so). When she noticed the new face the former Badger wasted no time putting her old Huffelpuff social skills to good use. After all, there weren't very many young men in the village and Moody promised to skin her if she hooked up with any of her colleagues.

The old bastard had been riding her ass ever since she joined Auror training, and not in the way she'd like. Being assigned to this dump was punishment for failing to stop Jugson at that raid a few weeks ago. Like it was her fault she tripped over that footstool!

Professor Wolf was sitting at his table, palms pressed to his head, focused completely on grading the abysmal essays he'd brought along. He was on his 4th Butter beer, a strange brew in his opinion. Not a lot of kick, and a little too sweet for actual beer. Must be a kid's drink or something.

They didn't carry any regular ales according to the bar keep, a slightly older woman with curly blonde hair that went by the name of Madam Rosmerta. He'd have to go to the Hog's Head if he wanted something stronger. It was probably for the best that he didn't drink too much while grading. Carson tended to speak his mind when he got more than a few in him, and the result might not be pretty.

"Wotcher Stranger."

Engrossed in his work, the young prof. flinched at the greeting. Now he wasn't jumpy by any means, but the combination of tuning everything around him out along with the sheer volume of the greeting caused his body to betray him. Besides, he honestly wasn't expecting anyone to walk up and say hi, at least not in a place where no one knew him.

Carson raised his head and immediately noticed the pink hair. Not a common color both here or in the 'muggle' world. The second thing he processed were the words of greeting uttered by the strange young woman. Drawing on his only language class back at Seattle U, 'Wotcher' was actually London slang for 'what are you up too'.

Completely butchered if you asked him, but he wasn't about to say that aloud. The class had actually been quite amazing. It taught him how to identify a person's origin or upbringing simply by breaking down the way they speak.

' _As long as it's English_ ', the Professor had boasted on the first day… _'I can place you.'_

Those two observations, so vividly described only weeks earlier by none other than the Head of Huffelpuff identified the Woman standing in front of him as the infamous Nymphedora Tonks, the biggest trouble maker to walk out of this here castle since the Marauder quartet back in the late 70's. Or so he was told. The only reason he'd even remembered the girl's name was because it was so…unique.

Despite all of this detailed information surging through his head, the only thing the young Muggle studies professor managed to get out of his mouth was an unoriginal; "Hi"

He frowned at his choice of words, correction WORD. Shaking his head, he added. "Sorry, what I meant to say is it's nice to meet you Miss…?"

"Tonks", the Bubble-gum haired Aurora supplied with a grin before sitting down.

"Just Tonks."

Well, he couldn't fault her for using her surname in this case.

The cheerful Witch took a moment to study the 'stranger' a bit closer. He wore jeans, a collared button up shirt, and a loose overcoat. In London this would make him one of several thousand men that matched the same description. Up here however, the guy stood out like a sore thumb.

"Well Just Tonks, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Carson chuckled, holding out his hand. "I'm Carson Wolf. The new muggle studies professor at Hogwarts." He added.

She shook it, her eyebrow raised at the realization that he was a Muggle. Well, the clothes sort of gave that one away, but there were plenty of wizarding folk who dressed like their less magically talented counterparts.

The pretty witch knew of course about this newest member of the faculty, largely in part because of an overheard conversation between the Headmaster and his deputy during the last Order meeting. What surprised her was finding one of the Headmasters flock here of all places on a Friday night. Teachers were supposed to be goody two shoes that never had any fun or ventured beyond the castles walls unless chaperoning the youngins.

"So",Carson tried while she continued to shamelessly stare. "Do you teach here as well?" he was of course aware she wasn't a Professor, though playing innocent and ignorant was always a good way to go, considering he was… what was the local word? Ah yes, rubbish at talking to girls.

Since relocating to the island it had become a bit easier though. The accent (which he thought was ridiculous, Western American English was clearer than any other variant in his opinion) was well received, especially among the female population of the student body. Not that he'd ever try this on minors. The woman in front of him however was another story.

"Me, a teacher? No way, I'm an Auror." There was pride in her tone, and the pink haired woman unconsciously lifted her chin a little higher. Seeing the quizzical look on the man's face she elaborated. "It's the wizarding world's equivalent of a police officer."

He nodded in mock understanding. Carson had squeezed the old man for information on the red and brown coated police force after seeing them at the ministry. This would be the first time interacting with one of them. He took another healthy swig from his bottle.

"Well then Miss Auror, is there a particular reason you choose to sit here. Am I in trouble?"

He didn't mean for it to sound the way it did, and worried that by talking so casually to an officer of the law in this society he'd actually get in trouble. Much to his surprise she flirted right back by saying; "Only if you want to be." and waggled her eyebrows at him playfully.

He was left speechless for a moment, but instead of ending it there added; "I'll consider it if you have handcuffs."

Carson was horrified at what he'd just said. Not only did he NOT have a bondage fetish, he'd never even role played in all his 24 years of life. Why had he said that?

The Metamorph looked him over approvingly, biting the corner of her lip. She'd been stationed on patrol in Hogsmeade since the beginning of September, and between her Auror job and the Order gig Tonks hadn't gotten any since before summer. It was October for Merlins sake!

Normally she wouldn't be so forward, but damn this Muggle was pushing all of her buttons the right way. She wouldn't call it love at first sight, though he was quite pleasant on the eyes. The face wasn't long per se, but there were some sharp edges, and a strong jaw with a bit of stubble.

Said face was framed by a sleek pair of rectangular spectacles, probably reading glasses. His hair was a dark brown that looked black in this light, slightly longer on top and shortly cropped on the sides. Definitely young, early or mid-twenties she reckoned. But he did have a sense of humor, and damn that accent was hot. She deciding to go all or nothing.

"Tell you what Professor, you buy me a drink and we'll talk about all the ways we Aurors like to detain our suspects. Maybe I'll even give ya a demonstration."

Oh, if only Narcissa could hear this. Her innocent younger cousin, outrageously flirting with a Muggle of all people. Personally she didn't have anything against them, but pursuing them was next to impossible thanks to the Statute. Not to mention that almost all of them (not speaking from personal experience of course) flew off the handle bars when told about her kind's powers.

But this one…this one was broken in, so to speak. He knew about magic, and didn't seem scared of it. I'd be a shame to let him go, she thought with a lick of her lips. After another pause he nodded in approval and began to pack up his work.

Carson quickly stuffed his work back into the bag before offering his arm, and the unlikely couple left the Three Broomsticks behind in favor of the more notorious Hogs Head. Upon entering the dirty bar, Carson couldn't help but wonder if he should have gotten that early booster for his Hep. Vaccination after all.

Tonks ordered two glasses and a bottle of amber liquid. After _Scourgifying_ the former, she poured a healthy dose of the latter into each. The American looked at the label, reading the old English letters.

' _Odgen's Finest Fire Whiskey'_

With not so much as a percent content visible, he decided it couldn't be too bad and downed the liquid in one gulp. Only shore leave with his former platoon mates kept him from coughing up a lung right then and there. Even his companion looked impressed. Red faced and tear eyed, he exhaled a jet of flame.

"Holy shit, that bottle wasn't kidding when it said Fire Whiskey!" a red faced and wheezing Carson whispered, trying to blink the tears away.

Tonks laughed and knocked back her own drink, producing a flame even bigger than his.

For the next ten minutes the two tried to outdo one another, getting royally drunk in the process. Eventually Carson confessed that he'd bullshitted the whole handcuffs remark, but that he would gladly take her out for a real date and try to 'Woo' her. Tonks, equally inebriated immediately agreed.

The two were finally kicked out by the bar keep, who put the bottle of Whiskey they'd consumed on the Auror's growing tab, despite the American's instance that his U.S. dollars were perfectly real and not Fake like monopoly money.

After half stumbling half crawling to the local Auror station a few of Tonks's squad mates escorted the drunken Professor back to the castle, where an amused Hagrid carried the half conscious man up to the 5th floor. He'd have to take the muggle out sometime, the Half Giant thought in amusement.

The lad seemed to know how to have fun on the weekends. Not even Friday and he was plastered. The Half Giant chuckled merrily. Meanwhile back at the village, Tonks slept it off in the stations version of a drunk tank. Both would wake the next morning with splitting headaches.

While the witch would cast a few sobering spells, Carson opted to crawl down to the infirmary to get a potion for a similar effect. Poppy was not lenient, and made sure to be extra loud while going about her morning duties while it kicked in.

oOo

After that first memorable 'date' a few weeks back, Carson had been thinking hard of how he was going to deliver on his drunken promise to impress the spunky English Witch. Deciding on staying within the Castle didn't help his situation, but it wasn't like he knew of any good places to take a lady here in the UK.

One thing he had picked up on was that none of the magical folk he met thus far had ever prepared a meal themselves. Hogwarts, A History (a book he'd confiscated from an inattentive student) stated that creatures called House elves cooked for and cleaned the castle.

His mind made the connection with the tall and graceful beings described exquisitely in the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings books he'd read as a teen. So, with the intent on asking for the fair elves to allow him to cook for the Auror, he set out to locate the Hogwarts kitchen.

Finding it proved to be difficult however. The elves didn't bus the food conventionally. The magical term was summoning and banishing, or so he'd been told. It sounded like teleportation to him, but fact was that no one knew of the Kitchen's location within the school. At his wits end, the frustrated Professor found himself in front of the Gargoyle, which ground aside without hesitation.

He briefly wondered why he'd even bothered to memorize the silly password the Headmaster had come up with. Whatever. The headmaster was sitting at his desk, nose buried in a thick tome of some kind. Upon inquiring, the old man was happy to show Carson, having developed a craving for Hot Chocolate in the last few hours that he was hoping to sate.

Two birds with one stone! They chatted along the way, and Carson found out that he also liked Ten Pin Bowling, a very Muggle sport. Dumbledore's fascination in particular was with the pin machine, whose workings remained elusive to him even now, several decades after discovering the sport.

Carson would never have guessed the kitchens entrance in a Million years. Behind a portrait of fruit…where one had to tickle a giggling pear.

A giggling pear.

The house elves were also not what he expected. After obtaining his chocolaty drink Dumbledore excused himself, leaving his young employee to deal with the exited creatures. There were most helpful in locating the ingredients he'd need, and also managed to coax out of him the reason they weren't allowed to do the cooking themselves.

After pressing him for the girl's name (they had their ways), an older Elf piped in that she knew Tonks from her school days. He modified the ingredients to reflect her tastes and set out to work. The counters only reached to his knees, having been built to suit the physical requirements of creatures half his size. By the time he'd finished the prep work his back and knees were killing him.

The generous creatures wouldn't let him leave without food, forcing upon him a number of pastries and other snack items. Arms laden with food, the American made his way to his quarters, looking forward to eating in bed while reading one of his favorite Books.

oOo

 **The Three Broomsticks Bar & Grill, Hogsmeade October 22nd, 1996**

The Brown barn owl impatiently pecked on the thin glass pane on the second floor window of the Three broomsticks. The bubble-gum haired Witch had just stepped out of the shower and zeroed in on the bird immediately. It had been almost two weeks since she'd met the cute Professor in the bar downstairs. He'd said not to expect any correspondence for a fortnight due to his schedule, and although she received letters on occasion from friends and family those had always arrived in the morning.

Her eyes lit up in excitement as she tore the seal, focusing on the last sentence.

 _'…_ _like to have dinner with me on the 24th?'_

She grabbed the complimentary pencil (quills and ink were too expensive for the bar) and scribbled a quick affirmative before sending the owl on its way. She didn't bother treating it with snacks, since it was so close to the castle.

Two days later, an exited Nymphedora Tonks strolled into the castle. It was early evening and most students were already in their respective houses. Her date met her on the front steps and offered her his arm. She'd never taken Muggle studies during her stint in Hogwarts and allowed him to lead her to his classroom. It wasn't a surprise to find the room slightly different from the normal layout when they stepped through the door.

Tonks couldn't help but appreciate the effort he'd gone to. Clearly more so because he'd done it all by hand. The desks were piled along the back wall, with the exception of two, who had been pushed together and covered with a red and white checkered table cloth.

There were dozens of candles lit around the classroom. Many wizards had of course done similar things over the years, but somehow she felt more appreciative of this. It wasn't perfect, but it was obvious that he'd tried.

After seating her like a proper gentleman, the American Professor rang a bell, which was followed a second later by a soft pop of apparition.

'So he had involved the house elves' she thought with a hint of disappointment.

"Is it ready?" he asked with excitement.

"Yes Professor sirs, we's be just pulling it froms the Oven now!"

"Great! Don't worry about cutting it, I got it covered."

The Hogwarts elf nodded before popping away.

Carson sat himself as well and popped the cork from a bottle of red.

"So what are we having?" Tonks asked sweetly, her chin resting on her laced fingers.

Carson grinned. "My special recipe Pizza. Made it myself, but the elves insisted on throwing it in the Oven and delivering. I can't complain about that", he added with a shrug. "Would probably drop it on the way up here anyway. Though remind me to tip the Pizza boy when he gets here."

She laughed at his comparison to a house elf to a pizza delivery boy. "Wait, you said you made it. You didn't ask the house elves. They're great cooks you know."

Now that was something new. No one besides her mother had ever cooked for her.

He grinned again. "I said I'd woo you, but not by letting others do the work. Made the dough from scratch. Had to raid the pantry a bit to get everything, and even floo'd to a student's house near a super market for a few of the muggle things but it turned out all right. They didn't expect company, so I had to bullshit a little to convince them I wasn't just using their fireplace. Teacher-Parent meeting and all that."

Tonks found herself laughing again at the thought of him using someone's Floo to travel to a grocery store.

"I really hope you like it." He didn't add that the primary objective for his excursion into Muggle London was to hit up a coffee distributer. Carson picked up a sizable quantity of Blue Mountain, a mill, and a coffee maker. Perhaps he'd talk to that Zabini kid and made a deal for some of the Italian stuff he had.

She flashed him a brilliant smile, exited to try this special variant of her favorite food. She briefly wondered if he knew, or whether it was a random fluke.

Another elf carrying oversized oven mitts popped into the room holding a steaming baking sheet, and the two wrestled comically to get the Italian pie off the tray and onto a large cutting board. With a deep bow, the elf excused himself.

The first few bites were hot (obviously) but well received. "Hmmm, this is great! I can't believe you made this. However…"

"However?" he repeated cautiously. 'Oh god, was she allergic to something?'

"Is there garlic in this?" she asked with mild alarm in her voice.

"Yeah. In the crust. Why, what's wrong?"

Tonks pretend clutched her throat. "I have a confession to make" she rasped. "I- I'm actually a vampire."

"…huh?"

Tonks tried. She really did. But the dumbstruck look he was giving her was too much. She burst out laughing. Unfortunately she hadn't quite finished chewing, and klutz that she was managed to choke on a piece of half chewed pizza crust.

For a second there Carson just watched the scene unfold as she went from pretend choking, to laughing, to choking for real in the span of about ten seconds before coming to his senses. He jumped up and quickly moved behind the panicking Metamorph, who was turning a very unintentional shade up blue.

Honestly, how does the equivalent of a trained law enforcement official manage to choke on something as harmless as pizza? With a well-practiced jerk below her breasts, the offensive and dangerous piece of Italian cuisine arced across the classroom and landed with an audible splat.

Silence reigned for a few moments while Tonks caught her breath.

"You good?" he asked in a far too calm manner for what just happened.

"Y-Yeah" she shuddered between gasps. "You saved my life!"

His hands lingered around her waist for a moment longer before withdrawing. "It's no big deal," Carson shrugged before sitting back down. "Just the Heimlich."

"Is that what you did? If it wasn't for that I'd be turning purple right now."

Carson looked at her in shock. "Wait, you don't know how to help a choking person? Doesn't this get covered in your police training? Or basic first aid first aid for that matter?"

She shook her head. "No, if someone chokes we immediately apparate them to St. Mungos. They have a few people on call just for that."

"You're pulling my chain again, right? It's a simple medical procedure. Almost every non magical knows it. There are even techniques if you're alone."

He could tell this was news to her. "You're serious. So you can regrow bones with a potion but something as simple as choking is beyond you?"

He didn't mean to belittle the wizarding world, but seriously. How had these people co-evolved alongside muggles?

Carson's head suddenly shot up.

"Please tell me you were joking about the vampire thing."

oOo

Tonks, Carson noted could really pack it away. He'd made enough to normally feed two with some leftovers. After ten minutes there were only crumbs left, and a very content looking Auror patting her belly.

With dinner concluded the Huffelpuff alumna led her date through the castle, intent on giving him the proper nickel tour, not the watered down version that the stuck up teachers knew.

Because he wasn't a house teacher, Carson had never actually been to any of the Common rooms. He learned that the cheerful girl had been sorted to Huffelpuff from Pomona, but what he didn't know was that the password to the common room hadn't changed in several decades. The 'Puffs it seemed were too trusting, he concluded as several barrels hoped aside to reveal a short corridor.

The Badgers common room was warm and inviting, decorated in yellows and cream colors. The ceiling was low, trapping heat from the fireplaces and making the space warmer than the rest of the castle. He instantly liked the room, so different from his old barracks or even the Residence common room in University. The couches were mismatched but homely, fitting right in.

It was after curfew, and only a few students still remained. They looked up to see the two adults chatting comfortably, but didn't intrude. One usually had a reason for burning the midnight oil, and sleep was preferred to approaching the two outsiders at such an hour. They snuggled up on the couch, but kept their hands in appropriate places.

It wouldn't do for Pomona to walk in and catch them. He'd be banned for life, and she'd be dressed down by the sweet motherly woman worse than Mad Eye ever could. Professor Sprout was a force to be reckoned with, Tonks remembered none too fondly.

"So, where'd you learn to cook like that?" Her index finger was tracing figure eights over his T-shirt clad torso. She found it refreshing that he didn't wear any robes, which somehow managed to completely hide the figure of even the most toned Quidditch players. The tight boot cut jeans might have had something to do with it as well, she added while nibbling on her bottom lip.

His hand, which had been stroking her hair softly paused. Seconds ticked by, and she begun to wonder what she'd said wrong when he broke the uneasy silence that had descended.

"A very good friend of mine showed me, a long time ago. " He sounded sad, and Tonks mentally kicked herself for asking in the first place, despite it being a perfectly harmless question. She didn't want to dredge up bad memories, but couldn't contain her curiosity. "What happened?" she whispered, regretting asking as soon as the question left her lips.

"She died."

Tonks squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

His soothing stroking of her hair continued. "It's all right. I would have told you eventually anyway."

The young witch was surprised. He was already making plans to share his past with her? They'd only known each other for two weeks, and a mere hours if you tallied the actual time spent together. From that one comment she discerned that he hadn't seen anyone in some time. It was the opposite with her. Men constantly came and went in her life, for various reasons. But he was so fast to open his heart to her. The realization left her feeling guilty, but also happy that he trusted her.

"She and I were close in high school. Home economics was her favorite class." Carson had to explain what the course entailed, seeing how Hogwarts didn't cover nearly the same things. It made sense that the muggles would offer courses on running a Household

"One day she made me the very same Pizza we had tonight, and I was hooked. The key is the tomato _juice for the crust._ …Makes it Pink. She coined it Rosy Dough."

There was another long pause, and Tonks could tell he was collecting himself enough to continue.

"During our senior year, she was diagnosed with a rare disease. It was incurable. I watched her fade over five months, growing weaker with each passing day. To keep my mind off of things I learnt to cook. Used her notes from school and practiced."

He chuckled at the memory. "Every day after school I'd bring her my concoctions. Muggle Hospital food is pretty bland you see. She said she loved every meal, but some of them were complete disasters."

Carson exhaled slowly.

"After she died I joined the army. Everywhere I went reminded me of her. I needed to get away, at least for a while. After basic and officer training, the whole Gulf region turned into a powder keg. My unit was moved into Saudi shortly after… it- It was nice being somewhere where it didn't hurt as much."

Tonks knew a little about the last muggle war. She was old enough to remember, and her dad always followed the news. The completely foreign images of the golden sand landscape, blemished by the foul soot of the pitch black smoke being blasted into the air. It looked like hell, even from the Telli.

'For him to actually enjoy it there…'

A single tear fell, rolling down her cheek. Then a sniff as her nose began to run.

He looked down, amazed that she'd shed tears because of what he'd said. That wasn't the intention at all. Carefully he pulled her closer.

"Tonks, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

She shook her head fiercely before removing herself from the couch, practically dragging him with her.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see" she simply supplied while scrubbing the remaining moisture away with her sleeve. Not much of an answer, but really he didn't mind.

They exited the castle, pausing by the broom instructor's (what was her name again…Hootch?) storeroom to fetch one of the funny looking cleaning devices. She could have grabbed two, brooms after all had their own magic to power them. But seeing how her Carson had no experience with them one it was.

The thin stick was surprisingly comfortable he found, as if an invisible cushion that had been wrapped around the wood. He held on for dear life when she pushed off. Marines belonged on the ground, NOT in the air. Those crazy Force Recon Bastards didn't count! She laughed at his discomfort, and only teased him a bit with a few aerobatic moves while they flew up to her ultimate destination.

It was long thought that the Astronomy tower was the highest place in Hogwarts to make out. Tonks, back when she was a not so innocent 'puff challenged that idea by going higher. The founders it seemed had thought ahead, and placed another platform within the cone shaped roof of Hogwarts's highest tower. It was charmed to look like the roofing shingles that made up the castles water protective top, and only revealed itself if one was close enough. A permanent version of the bubblehead charm insulated the terrace from the elements.

Carson grasped the hidden meaning of their newest destination quickly, and blushed furiously when she went to place the broom against the Wall, swaying her hips seductively.

Despite the obvious signs, Carson hesitated to make the first move. Undeterred by this unusual show of restraint, the cute Metamorph forcefully pushed him back and onto a couch she'd silently conjured from the her old common room.

The presence of the piece of furniture momentarily startled him, but he quickly recovered and pulled her onto his lap. With a half muttered "impressive", the two locked lips for the first time. Her lip chap tasted like cherries, and her aggressiveness was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. Sarah had been his first and only, and by the time they'd gotten around to ' _it_ ' she had begun to grow frail. Handling her had been like touching a delicate piece of pottery, or a flower. Tonks on the other hand bristling with barley contained energy and lust. It was completely different, but not unenjoyable. He quickly matched her pace, much to her pleasure.

She quickly liberated him of that T he'd worn that evening while he fumbled around with the strange concept that was her Auror garb. With a giggle she shed her coat and shirt, leaving her in a pure white Camisole and bra. Very pleased with what he saw (Tonks cheated a bit) he went on the offensive, planting kisses on her neck while her fingers caressed and weaved through his brown hair.

She playfully swatted his chest when those kisses lingered and threatened to become hickies.

Within minutes both were practically starkers, and their relatively heated kisses turned innocent in comparison to their most current interactions.

" _Wait",_ he practically moaned, mentally cursing himself for ever uttering the damned word. He just barley caught himself before it went too far. "What about protection?"

Tonks couldn't believe it. None of the guys she'd ever bedded had worried about such a thing. After all, anything that happened was her problem, according to them anyway. To think that he stopped himself to ask her that. The question made her want him all the more. But to answer his query and get on with it, she simply whispered: "Spells"

The cute 'O' his mouth made at the answer sent her over the edge. Her hands grasped him, one around the waist, the other…well you know. With that last bit of encouragement they connected, causing both to moan in pleasure. Needless to say Operation ' _Woo the Auror_ ' had been a smashing success.

oOo

Carson woke late the next morning, raising his head a bit to get his bearings. Then the half asleep young man recalled that he didn't have class until early afternoon and sunk back into the soft sheets. Memories of last night came flooding back after a few moment. He remembered the dinner, the talking. And the fact that his bed was no longer a single but a queen. And the reason it happened to grow like that. She was curled up into his chest, an untamable mess of lime green and strawberry red hair. It smelt of citrus, and tickled his nose when he turned to gaze at her sleeping from.

'But wasn't it pink yesterday?' He simply dismissed it as part of her abilities of being a witch. After all, he'd seen several pranks involving changing hair color. In fact, he'd been the recipient of one of those pranks. His good buddy Flitwick helped him when the neon green didn't go away after the third day.

More memories of last night sprang forth. All rather pleasant. Said thoughts eventually got him exited, and in the process roused his sleeping beauty.

"Why Professor" she teased. "Up and about so soon again I see?"

He blushed slightly, and busied himself by running his fingers through her hair.

"Hard not to with such a pretty woman lying next to me."

She rewarded him for his compliment with a long kiss.

"You know," she casually admitted after several minutes of comfortable silence; "I've always wanted to role play the whole student-teacher forbidden fruit thing. His eyes widened and before long Carson was in his classroom scrambling to rearrange the desks while Tonks transfigured some of his cloths into School robes.

 **Tonks has dated plenty before, and always seemed to go for the same type of guy. You know, the kind who talks smooth, has fun for a bit and moves on. It's what she knows, it's what she expects. For her to be treated like a real person and not just a fun toy surprises her. She doesn't have to worry about Carson wanting to use her for her gifts considering he doesn't know what a Metamorph is. In a way it will be new and exciting for both of them.**

 **I don't want to focus exclusively on their relationship however. Their combined presence will play a bigger role later in the story, but for now it's still about Carson the professor.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Chapter 5**

Most of the sixth and all of the seventh years knew their Professor had scored from the shit eating grin plastered across his face for the next two days. The staff also noticed though none commented on it. Aurora seemed somewhat depressed when she realized why her colleague was in such high spirits. Carson's students tried to get answers, but he remained silent, only clarifying that it was not a student or any of the female teachers (or male for that matter!) Rumors like that could be trouble, so it was best to nip them in the bud as soon as they started. That meant thoroughly shutting down Ms. Brown before her adolescent brain could weave a juicy and scandalous plot involving him and what would probably be a hot and eager student looking for some ' _extra credit'_. Seriously, that girl could make Rita Skeeter's quill blush.

At breakfast the following day he received a letter from Tonks. It entailed an invitation to spend the Hols(as they liked to call them) at her parent's family home with her. He'd originally planned a trip back Stateside to visit his own folks, but the still fresh memories of that glowing blue stuffed bear made him reconsider. Staying at the castle wouldn't be so bad, right? Ah hell, who was he kidding? Her invitation was the easy third option, and he latched onto it like a lifeline. Pulling out a pen and pinning the messenger owl with his other hand (he had no intention of trekking all the way up to the Owlery) he penned a quick affirmative, then tied the message to the upset bird's leg. A Bacon shaped olive branch served as a piece offering and the Avian was off.

Hagrid simply looked at him with disapproval at the handling of the Schools messenger birds before returning to his massive plate.

The two week break was still almost a month away though, and Carson wanted to use the weekend to gather a few common muggle items one would encounter in everyday life. He approached the Headmaster after breakfast and asked for a two day shore leave, considering he couldn't unlock his fireplace. The headmaster curiously inquired why he wanted to take two days to go to the lake, causing the much younger man to snort. Carson explained the military term on their way to his quarters. He also coaxed the powerful Wizard into charming a bag to be bottomless, feather light and cushioned.

Permanently.

The exercise left the Supreme Mugwump with a damp brow and a reminder that he needed to start practicing some of the more complicated charms a little more frequently.

Carson had gotten his hands on a magical mail in order catalogue recently, hence his knowledge of the bags. They cost quite a bit of coin he noted, which was the reason for bullshitting the old man into helping him 'carry' all of the things he'd want to get in the muggle world. The young teacher almost felt bad.

Almost.

With a promise to be back by Sunday afternoon Carson grabbed a handful of Floo powder and vanished with a green flamed 'whoosh'. Dumbledore had a sneaking suspicion that he'd been had. It had been a very Slytherin thing of the Muggle to do. With a chuckle the Headmaster set off towards his office, idly contemplating what new password to force upon the Gargoyle and his staff.

Almost 24 hours later Carson found himself clipping a Ministry of Magic Visitor badge to his Coat (it was getting chilly after all) while descending into the bowels of Britain's Magical regulatory body. The Aurors were still clueless as ever in regards to Muggle 'artifacts', and he wasn't about to educate them while passing through the security checkpoint. After getting lost twice the harmless visitor found his way back towards Arthur Wesley's Office.

"Hello Arthur, how's life treatin' ya?"

The very bored Wizard looked up from the mass of papers scattered on his desk, momentarily confused at whom it was standing in the door.

"Oh, Professor Wolf. How nice of you to stop by!" The redhead got up and shook Carson's hand, not having heard the inquiry. Carson didn't blame him. The paperwork on that desk could leave anyone in a catatonic state.

"You can call me Carson you know."

The Head of the Weasley clan (you can't call it a house) smiled brightly.

"Very well. Now, how are you finding Hogwarts? Great school you know. All my children have gone there."

Carson grinned. He'd made the connection between the jovial man and the two remaining Weasley students the second he learnt their names. The fact that half the school cheered ' _Weasley is our king'_ over and over during their broom games helped cement that connection far more than it ought to have. Damn earworm had been in his head for the two days.

"Actually, I'm here to ask you for a favor."

Carson pulled a rather large yellow box on wheels out of his modified bag and placed it on the ground. Arthur looked at the object in excitement, then at his visitor for an explanation. "What is it?"

The muggle rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for no real reason. "It's called a generator, and it makes electricity by burning petrol (he'd started using the term instead of gas because it didn't confuse people)."

The back yard tinkerer in Arthur came out of hiding at the revelation that a muggle machine could simply produce electricity using nothing more than a smelly but very flammable fluid. The twins had shown the potentially dangerous qualities of the muggle fuel when they were five. For the next few minutes Carson explained how it turned petrol into electrical power.

"I realize you may be the last person to ask this, but I was hoping you could Majik the pistons here to run indefinitely? The enchanted lawnmower from a few months back actually gave me the idea. I'm hoping to use this in class to demonstrate all of the things muggles use power with. The fumes would asphyxiate us if I actually ran it with petrol, and besides the stuff is damn expensive over here."

Mr. Weasley nodded in agreement as the Muggle spun his sales pitch, not able to rip his eyes off the black DEWALT label.

"I'm sure we could make an exception, the red headed Wizard licked his lips in excitement. "For educational purposes of course." It seemed the Wizard was even more excited than he was.

"Would you like me to put a permanent silencing charm on it as well?"

oOo

Three hours later Carson walked out of the small office with a dry throat. In a way demonstrating every single appliance and power tool to the Head of the Misuse of Muggle artifacts department was like a dry run of his upcoming classes. The impromptu crash course had left Arthur much more knowledgeable in how the tools Muggles used worked. As thanks Carson promised to find him a gen set as well.

Carson even suggested buying broken appliances and fixing them with magic. In fact half of the stuff in his bag _was_ broken, just waiting for one of the Professors to mend. Over the last few months the staff had come to expect this. In a way it was humiliating to be the only non-magical, but getting everyone to do what was basically the dirty work made it all worthwhile. The wizards would consider themselves superior, boasting in their ability to do things he couldn't. But by being polite and offering a smile he practically made them his lackeys, as Dumbledore had found out yesterday. With an evil snicker he ascended back into muggle London.

oOo

 **The Tonks Family Home, Somewhere In Wales December 19th, 1996**

The Tonks's lived in a decent sized house. Both worked in the magical world he learned, but Ted's family is all Muggle. As such the furnishings were both modern and magical. It was a nice mix of the two worlds, he concluded as they finished the tour of the house. The moving photos captured his attention as passed the hallway leading to the living room. Perhaps he'd send one of him and Tonks to his folks. Her Parents would be home later in the afternoon, giving them some alone time. Tonks made him feel like a teenager again, he concluded with a silly grin as she walked into the bathroom for a shower following round two. Inviting a boy to her house while the parents were at work? What's next, making out on the couch while babysitting? He extracted himself from the slim single mattress and followed her. After all, he couldn't just meet the Tonks's smelling like their daughter now could he.

Six hours later Carson stood at rigid attention, something that he couldn't help when meeting the father of the Woman he was dating. Ted Tonks was a pleasant man, rising to about 5'-7" with a small belly showing under a checkered sweater vest. He sported a neatly trimmed mustache and had light brown hair, with a bit of gray showing on the sides. Andromeda looked like someone he'd seen before, but he couldn't quite pin her. She was also very pleasant, and politely asked what he did for a living.

She wasn't phased by him being a muggle working at a magical School, and Carson could only dream that his parents would act similarly when he would finally introduce Tonks.

Not that they were bad people or anything, it was just that his father was a no nonsense kind of guy, and magic didn't exactly fit that bill.

After a simple dinner the four retired to the living room, where Tonks became the subject of many laughs and whistles as the baby photo albums were brought out. She took it in stride, but assured Carson he'd be on the receiving end of a prank or two in the next few weeks.

Lo and behold the next day his hair was fluorescent orange. It was also the day they'd agreed to go the magical alley to buy presents. He'd accumulated a few hundred galleons in the almost four months he'd been employed, and was eager to buy some of the cool stuff similar to what was confiscated from the students over the term.

Diagon alley was nothing like Hogsmeade, he concluded after walking out of Madam Malkins. Tonks had insisted he at least buy one outfit. Her reason for this, so elegantly explained while the seamstress was working a tape measure over ever part of Carson's anatomy, was; 'The nail that sticks out tends to get pounded by the hammer.'

His response in turn; "You know I wouldn't stand out so much if I didn't look like Carrot Top!"

From the way she'd constantly scanned the people around them that told him she was being cautious. Of course, most of the shoppers in the magical district behaved similarly. Skittish, nervous. But his colorful ski jacket did draw quite a bit of attention. What wouldn't have even generated a first look on the slopes of Mount Baker was like wearing a neon sign here.

So here they were, 45 galleons poorer and with a black set of robes similar in style to the standard Auror battle dress. It was the only thing he'd considered, and even now the heavy garments made him feel awkward. They worked great for concealment however. He'd found several places where his Berretta fit snugly. Tonks explained that the inner pockets could change to fit the needs of the Witch or Wizard. It also came with some low level protection charms. Perhaps this stuff wasn't so bad after all.

In Flourish and Blotts the young Professor purchased a book on Bowling, which included a detailed description and diagrams of the very machine that fascinated the old man. The cutaway isometric pictures even moved! For a modest fee he had the muggle book shipped to Hogwarts.

Despite only dating for two months, he was determined to spoil Tonks rotten with a pair of Diamond studded earrings. It wouldn't become a habit he told himself, but since he barely knew what her interests were jewelry was a safe bet.

After asking his Girlfriend for advice on what to get her parents, he walked out of a massive London Department Store holding a top of the line driver(golf) and the latest book of a series that Andromeda liked to read. The book was difficult to track down, but when he did it was during a book signing from that very Author.

And so he'd found himself in a long lineup of middle aged women who thought he looked out of place in his goth like magical clothes and bright orange hair. A few tried to engage in conversation about the contents of 'Long Hard ride'. They didn't seem to believe his repeated insistence that it was a gift for his mother in law, and nothing more. Reading the synapsis on the back slowly turned his face the same color as the infamous Wealsey hair. His mom read the same sort of crap. How had he missed this? Tonks was going to pay!

They ate lunch at a muggle restaurant a ways from Diagon Alley, mostly out of fear of a random attack by the emboldened Death Eaters. That prompted an explanation of who and what they were, as well as their ideology. He listened intently, asking about tactics and their preferred MO.

Finally someone was willing to explain just who these terrorists were. Carson already knew that magical skill and power was not the same from person to person. The leader of these 'Death Eaters' was a very powerful wizard, and almost impossible to fight one on one. He'd never expected these people to have such trouble with a group that at most had fifty combatants and perhaps a few hundred supporters.

But without equalizers like firearms he could see how they could be a serious threat. A gun would be as powerful in the hands of a child as it was in those of a Soldier. Training made the difference. But it did not make one more powerful.

Tonks was a bit surprised at how specific his questions were, specifically how they fought, and whether they used any small unit tactics. But it was to be expected. After all he had served in his countries' armed forces.

The more Tonks explained he realized just how sheltered his life within the castle has been. These people were involved in a low intensity conflict of sorts. An Insurgency with terror tactics, kidnapping and torture. Hell, just before his arrival before start of term the Head of their law enforcement division had been murdered.

This was serious. Back when he'd seen the Aurors at the ministry he simply thought someone had sent a threatening letter, or perhaps there had been a defensive move because of what was happening stateside.

Terrorism in America was beginning to rear its ugly head. The World trade center bombing back in '93, and the far more devastating Oklahoma City bomb just over a year and a half ago. He'd been foolish to assume the Wizarding world would react to muggle happenings.

Starting tomorrow he'd purchase a subscription to this Daily Prophet he'd seen around the Great hall. Why Dumbledore had chosen to keep him in the dark when he'd be a prime target for these terrorists was beyond him. When School started again in January he'd talk to the old man.

With full stomachs they wandered around London. Carson dragged her to a Post Office to send of a multi-page letter to his parents. He hoped the length of correspondence would mollify them about his decision not to come home for Christmas. He did include a non-moving picture of him Tonks, and added that they were dating. Hopefully that would get his mother off his back for a while. His younger sister was already married and expecting. Every time he came home she'd give him the Care Bear stare, and quite frankly it freaked him out.

Ten minutes later they were back in Wales, sitting around the kitchen table enjoying some hot chocolate and just looking out the windows. The weather had turned wet once more, and a fierce wind was blowing. The couple sipped on their hot drinks, content with watching the storm develop.

"Oh hon, I forgot to mention." the bubblegum haired witch started halfway through her cup of cocoa.

"My boss called. Wants me to come in and report on the Hogwarts situation. I'll be out of the rest of the afternoon and evening." Tonks usually sent her reports via owl, but with the two week break she'd lucked out and wasn't required to stay in the small village. The downside was that the young Auror had to report directly to the head of the DMLE.

Carson wiped a foam mustache from his lip and nodded. "All right, no biggie." He shrugged. "I'll just wrap up these presents while you're out. Maybe do some light reading afterwards."

Tonks grinned. "Thanks! I was not looking forward to wrapping those."

It seemed she misunderstood his statement. Carson planned on wrapping the presents _he'd_ give.

The American grunted in disapproval as she pecked him on the cheek, but almost made his eyes bug out when she whispered how she'd reward him later in his ear.

"I'll hold you to that", the young professor managed to finally stammer out before she disappeared with a crack.

oOo

Despite repeated assurances to the contrary, Carson felt like he was intruding when Christmas day finally dawned. The wet English weather had turned colder, and instead of cold water even colder snow now fell from the thick, gray clouds in almost concerning quantities. The previous two days had been spent clearing the heavy, wet stuff off walkways around the house, followed by liberal use of salt to keep it that way. But for today, he was content just watching more of it lazily fall from his seat, arm slung around his giddy young Witch.

Observing the small but happy family exchange gifts and laughs made him wonder if he should have gone back to Seattle to see his parents and siblings. Theoretically they were still asleep, and hypothetically he could ask for a…no. He wouldn't bother anyone on Christmas day. Perhaps he could use the Tonks's phone later today and call them up.

None of this of course showed on the outside. He wouldn't dare ruin their happy moment by sulking around all day. After a few minutes of idle chatter, the first presents were opened. Carson was relieved to see that his choices were well received. Andromeda especially was very, very excited to have an Autographed copy of what Carson had dubbed 'a pervy ero novel'.

What he hadn't expected was to receive gifts as well. Some of his students had pitched in to buy him '1001 Magical Terms…for dummies?' It was legit. Yellow cover, that silly Glasses wearing dude pointing at the title.

Those cheeky bastards, he thought with a grin.

Teddy and Andromeda gave him a magical camera. One had to hold down the button for 5 seconds to get a proper exposure, and magic stitched the end into the beginning to create a seamless loop, spitting out a 5x5 Polaroid picture. It was a great gift.

Nym, ever the vigilant Auror had gotten him a light jacket made from Dragon hide. It felt like leather, but was more rigid. The coat and by extension the wearer could absorb a tremendous amount of punishment she'd explained. The material he learnt was rare, as dragons were an endangered species. Up until that day Carson had thought dragons to be mythical. Now he was the owner of a piece of one. One learnt something new every day it seemed.

Hugs and thanks were exchanged. After a huge breakfast Andy dove into her new book, while Ted whacked a bucket full of conjured golf balls from the magically heated porch. The youngsters were left to their own devices for the next few hours and decided to go for a stroll.

" _I've got some news_ " the young Witch said in a muffled voice shortly after leaving the house, a by-product from having bundled up against the snow and wind.

Carson looked down at her and squeezed her gloved hands, encouraging her to go on.

"Dumbledore was at the meeting a few nights ago with my boss, and they agreed to place me directly in Hogwarts until the end of term!"

"That's great", Carson replied with a big smile. "So, can you stay in my room, or is Pomona going to stick you back in the Puff's dorm?"

Tonks laughed.

"I sweet-talked Dumbledore into housing us in one of the couple's suites."

Carson nodded. They were basically going to live together. Without much in terms of dating experience he wasn't sure how long an appropriate time was before such things happened.

Ultimately though it didn't matter. He liked spending time with Tonks, and sharing a bed on a regular basis meant he'd see her every day. Carson decided to rib her a bit anyway.

"Remember, if you snore I reserve the right to smother you with a pillow." He said matter-of-factly.

Tonks mock gasped.

"I'll detain and charge you with battery of an Auror." She grinned. "Ten years in Azkaban for you!"

Carson smirked victoriously. "Ha, I'll claim it was self defense. Besides, you can't send muggles to that place!"

Tonks stuck out her tongue in defiance. "Brat!"

oOo

Boxing Day came and went, and before he knew it New Year's Eve was around the corner. Up until that evening things had been quiet and relaxing for the American. She'd warned him though that all that would change tonight. Dinner was the last placid moment he could recall. After that it was party after party with acquaintances and co-workers of hers. Carson currently found himself in a smoky flat somewhere in London, yam packed with people.

"Wait, so you…" a drunk Auror slurred at yet another gathering.

…and her?" he pointed at the equally Tipsy Metamorph, who was laughing at an unrecognizable comment from what Carson assumed was the man's girlfriend. He nodded, feeling like a bobble head figure glued to the dash of a car. He'd had four cold ones. Muggle beer, not the watered down stuff the students guzzled on the weekends. The lack of drink in the last months turned him into a lightweight, and he was pleasantly buzzed. Just enough for things to feel a bit fuzzy around the edges. It also made him talk to complete strangers without inhibition. Ah, alcohol.

"Yup" he followed up with a big grin.

Walsh, at least that's what he'd heard when introductions were made slapped the wiry man on the back, and none too gently either.

"Mate that is one fine bird you picked up!" he congratulated.

The Englishman's accent was thicker with the substantial percentage of alcohol in his bloodstream, but the comment registered none the less. Carson almost snorted when he made the connection between chicks and birds.

"Word 'o advice though" Walsh continued, not so sneakily cupping a hand in front of his mouth. "Watch yourself. She's a heartbreaker."

Carson's eyebrow rose at the thinly veiled 'advice'.

"Sure as shite dumped my arse just before joining the force." He finished, a hint of bitterness in his voice. Carson followed his gaze to the giggling pair of Witches leaning against the kitchen counter, before taking another a swig from his bottle.

Tonks pulled him aside a shortly before midnight.

"I've got a special place I want to take you", she whispered in his ear. Feeling her breath sent shivers up his spine. Before he could even nod in confirmation the now familiar sensation of side along apparition registered in his brain. The musty, smoky air from the Apartment was replaced with a crisp but chilly breeze.

Carson wasn't very familiar with the English capital city. The first thing he identified was that they were high off the ground, and outside. 'The roof of a skyscraper? No, the neighborhood was wrong. The glow of London's modern glass and steel skyline stood out in the background, separated from the older, more historic part of the city by a sea of streetlights..' The very distinct outline of Westminster Abbey and the United Kingdom's parliament building were visible and very close. The only thing that rose to such a height this close to such iconic buildings must have been the large clock tower.

Big Ben.

Before he could even form a question Tonks took his hand, guiding the flabbergasted young man around the large archways. Their bodies seemed to glow a faint green from the large floodlights pointing at the intricate gothic architecture.

They rounded the corner with moments to spare.

Carson actually flinched when the big gong inside the tower struck. A split-second later the Sky illuminated as the first pyrotechnic charges went off over the Thames. The dimly lit streets and sidewalks illuminated, revealing tens of thousands of people. Their cheering almost drowned out the booms and gongs.

Through it all though he managed to hear her whisper loud and clear. _"Happy new Year"_

Two petite hands yanked him down by the collar of his coat, a next thing he knew they were kissing. Deep, searing, passionate kissing. His mind went blank. The only thing he could do was kiss her back, and maybe place his hands on her hips. Coherent thoughts returned sometime later.

"Wow" he managed to gasp between breaths, before leaning back down for more.

As amazing as the show was, neither was willing to call it quits and watch.

Separated from the mass of people by police barricades were several TV crews recording the festivities. After the initial opening salvo the young BBC camera man zoomed in on Westminster Bridge, then up to the famous clock standing guard next to it. He'd been standing outside in the cold for over two hours, and was sure that his fingers were going to fall off soon.

The cameras only moved marginally, panning a few degrees this way and that, and mainly just trying to capture the mood. It was all very choreographed. But after ten seconds the # 3 camera still hadn't moved. The lack of action uncured the wrath of one of the Technical Directors, who burst out of the _heated_ van to tear the intern a new one.

He'd been to wound up to see _why_ the #3 camera hadn't moved. While the young lad got chewed out the assistant director pulled the feed onto the main screen, where it was broadcast live across the UK. In recent year's camera technology had advanced to the point where one could read a small font paperback novel from half a mile away with the magnification set to maximum. Of course Televisions hadn't caught up to the same point yet, but they were getting there.

As such the couple that was currently furiously making out on Big Ben gained instant celebrity status. It didn't take long for the police to catch wind of the fact that there were two unauthorized individuals performing indecent acts on a Historical British landmark during one of the most well recorded night of the year no less.

Just them being up there was already an embarrassment to the Security organizers. Orders were swiftly relayed and a half dozen uniforms, who would no doubt be making the first arrests of the year.

Shouts of ' _ **London Police, stop right there!'**_ were never a good thing to hear. Doubly so when the shouts emanated from the only entrance/exit from the tall building.

"Oh shit, it's the Rozzers!" Tonks all but yelled, ensuring that many, many people heard.

"Tonks! How can you call them that when you're one yourself?" How or why he was arguing about that was lost on him. They'd bolted from their previous location near the corner of the tower and ran back to where she'd first apparated to. With a swish of her wand the heavy door to the Belfry opened, and none too soon. The cops had just rounded the corner, eager to cuff the two deviants who'd dared set foot on their precious tower.

Tonks grabbed his arm and they cracked away, back to the flat…

…Where everyone was staring at the Telli in the corner. And then at them. The roar of approval that met them there was almost as bad as the bells and fireworks a mere minutes earlier. The partygoers surrounded them. Carson's back felt sunburnt from all the approving slaps on the back.

"Scrimgeour is going to shit a brick when he finds out about this!" one of her colleagues shouted. The couple looked confused, then saw a still shot of themselves snogging on the Telly, followed by an instant replay of their mad dash around the clock tower.

'Oh shit' they said in unison.

oOo

Honestly you two!" Andromeda Tonks stood in the front door, hands on her hips, a stern expression on her face. Tonks' apparition needed some work it seemed. It was far too loud to sneak into the house un-noticed. They'd hoped that her parents had gone to bed last year, but it wasn't meant to be. Thanks to Ted's roots they owned a rather impressive TV, one of the new flat screened models that was as big as a grand piano.

"Honestly mum, we didn't know the creepy muggles would be watching us like that!" she'd argued _._

The former marine smartly kept his mouth shut, knowing that this was a battle already lost. Occasionally Andy would give him an angry glare, but for the most part Tonks took all the heat. Ted gave him an amused smirk at least, so at least he wasn't completely in the doghouse.

 **A/N: The annual London fireworks show did in fact only begin three years later in the year 2000.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Chapter 6**

 **All right, this chapter needed almost no tweaking so I'm willing to release it early. Let me know what you think & thanks for reading.**

 **Muggle Studies Classroom, Hogwarts Jan 5th, 1997**

 _Carson burst through the door to his 7th year class similar to how Snape seems to walk all the time. Had he worn robes they would have fluttered._

"Ok kids, I've called in some favors I didn't even know I had, and managed to get us key port…"

"Port key!" they all groaned in frustration. "…transportation to the Daytona 500!" he finished, choosing to ignore the little shits. Last week he special ordered twenty copies of Muggles for Dummies as payback for his Christmas gift. The professor was pleased to see the yellow covers on each desk.

He expected cheering. He expected their faces to light up as if Christmas had decided to come back 11 months early. Instead he received confused looks. Obviously none of them knew about one of the most legendary raceways in WORLD! That would have to change.

" _NASCAR is America's version of your Broom flying tournament. Except better in every way"_ … he paused, trying to recall what Quiditch was all about.

"And without hoops!"

"Or balls!"

" Or…"

"WE GET IT!"the class chorused in annoyance.

Carson again ignored their whining, instead focusing on cramming more facts and dates down their throats with barely suppressed glee.

"It's going to be big…", his eyes continued scanning the assembled class of seventh years. "…it's going to be loud, and it's happening February 16th!Don't bother packing any winter gear, 'cause Florida is a comfortable 19 degrees around this time of year. We're leaving from the three broomsticks with an Auror escort, courtesy of the lovely Nym Tonks. Be sure to thank her next time she catches you in the hallway after curfew."

Ok, that last part was directed at only one person. Carson's eyes bored into Mr. Flint, who quickly averted his.

'Yeah, thought so'

Not even bothering with reviewing today's lesson the unpredictable Professor waltzed out of his classroom to find McGonagall. He'd need to get permission slips to give to the parents to sign, and hadn't the faintest idea where to find them. The class, not at all surprised anymore at their teachers erratic behavior took his leave as a sign that this was a free study session. Again.

oOo

The 16th came quickly. Before long the large group of sixth and seventh year students filed out of the castle and towards Hogsmeade. Warming charms were plentiful, seeing how most students were dressed in only light fall or spring outfits. Not a cloak could be seen. Even the Aurors wore Muggle outfits. They would play the part of chaperoning teachers and parents for this outing.

The rest of the students looked on with envy as their classmates departed. Many had tried to bribe their way into coming along, and as tempting as 10,000 Galleons cash sounded to Professor Wolf, he could not be swayed to allow anyone (cough Malfoy) from tagging along.

Officially anyway. Tonks had threatened to lock his ass up should he accept the money, even after attempting to bribe her with a year's supply of Odgens finest if she looked the other way. But Carson Wolf could not be bested so easily!

Operation 'Malfoy in Sheep's clothing' involved getting Slughorn royally smashed and nicking some polyjuice potion from the shelves. This he discreetly handed to the Slytherin in the hallway, along with the hair of a student who'd been unable to get their overbearing parents to sign the permission slip. One forged Signature later and Carson had collected three years' worth of Wages in one night.

Yup, he could be bribed. No, he didn't care the least bit.

After another lousy Port Key experience (Carson had requested the magical equivalent of Gravol from Poppy beforehand), the mob of exited teenagers were herded onto a good old fashioned yellow school bus.

The bus driver was from the American Ministry of Magic (they agreed to provide someone when Carson casually mentioned obviating the Muggle one they'd thought of hiring), so talking freely wasn't an issue. Not that Tonks and Carson did much talking. The two responsible (and that term was being used very loosely here) adults were busy making out at the back of the bus. Anyone caught looking over their shoulder received a slug vomiting hex to the face by the Auror, or if you were busted twice a pair of Taser prongs to the neck (the American was getting extremely good with them)

Neither had to resort to such drastic measures because almost every face was pressed against the windows, gawking at the strange sight that was Florida (to put this in context there was a good two feet of snow around the castle this morning and the temperature hovered barley below freezing)

 **Daytona International Speedway, Florida February 16th, 1997**

Daytona Beach was packed with fans. The usual crowd of half-naked, beer gut toting rednecks sporting team colors painted across their faces could be seen in the area. The town was too small to have a Gringotts branch, so many if not all of the students had converted their galleons straight into US dollars weeks earlier, and were eager to hit the nearby mall.

The 7th years were allowed to move about (within reason) without a chaperone, but only in groups of two or more. The 6th years were divvied into groups handled by an adult. As much as he wanted to go hit the town with Tonks, they were required to pull their weight. No slacking or goofing off.

Despite the adult responsibilities it felt good to be back in the Homeland. Florida wasn't so different if ignored the white beaches, palm trees, and almost tropical weather. Ok it was nothing like the dreary, depressing Northwest. This place was paradise!

'Why the hell did I have to grow up in Washington? 'Seriously, it rains for eleven months out of the year.' Damn his parents!

'Dumbledore's charmed bag was going to get a good workout today', Carson thought with a grin as they split up in front of the Shopping Center. Coffee was the primary objective, as well as other things he couldn't easily get back in the UK. But mainly Coffee! His fellow Slytherin connoisseur seemed to have the exact same idea, so Carson offered to chaperone the Italian to a nearby Starbucks.

"Hey Zabini, leave some for the rest of us!" Carson whined as the barista tallied up the kid's purchases. It was well into the triple digits. The Italian boy grinned, very pleased with his haul. The 6th year was an odd duck, at least when it came to fitting a mold.

He was the only Slytherin in this outing (besides Malfoy), which was shocking enough. Carson had maybe a half dozen of that house between his 4 years, and of those he was the only pureblood. Apparently that was a big deal. Personally, the whole blood purity thing was a huge load of shit if you asked him. He'd seen students from supposedly ancient and noble families that barely knew more magic than him. Probably because of all the inbreeding. The oldest families had more in common with Hillbillies than normal people.

The muggle born Sytherins came to him a lot for help, mainly because their own head of house, that bastard of a teacher Snape wouldn't even hear them out. The way that jackass treated the students made Carson grimace. Bullying it seemed was alive and well in the Wizarding world.

Dumbledore himself became increasingly absent, and after bringing the issue to the deputy Headmistress with no change in the status quo, he flat-out told the Snakes that he'd water board anyone who harmed his students. In front of the entire school.

Granger shouted out about the legality of the barbaric practice while Snape was out of his seat in an instant, looking like he wanted to hex the man for threatening his house. Carson made no attempt to back down, and even purposely rested a hand on his M9 for all to see. Eventually the other staff managed to defuse the situation, but tensions had run high from that day on.

But he was getting off topic.

"So, what do you think of the States?" The teacher asked with genuine interest.

Blaise's family regularly traveled, but he'd never visited North America before. The Italian liked what he saw.

"It's different, but in a good way I guess. Everything seems bigger. There's no real history, just modern stuff. I like it."

Carson beamed, glad that his efforts were producing positive experiences. That was the intent of the whole field trip after all.

"Glad to hear it kid" the teacher replied happily, patting the black haired teen on the back. Blaise nodded and took his leave, choosing to chat with an older Ravenclaw girl. Carson followed but kept his distance. No need to be overbearing. After an hour of walking the streets and seeing the sights, the group converged at the predetermined assembly point.

A quick headcount confirmed everyone was present, and as one the group entered the steel and concrete structure. It took ten minutes to navigate the large spectator area and find their section, and another ten to reach their cluster of seats. A few squatters had claimed the unoccupied area as their own, but were swiftly kicked out by the Seattle native. The tattoo on his arm might have helped a wee bit in that regard. Most sports fans had a healthy amount of respect for service members.

The massively large and tall stands were packed with tens of thousands of muggles. For those who'd been to the Quidditch World cup a few years back the sights and sounds were much the same. The Quidditch pitch was tighter than this black oval track, but the amount of people here must have been similar if not greater.

Thousands of white gulls rode the brisk breeze blowing in from the sea, enough to create huge swarms, all looking for their next meal. The muggle's version of the sonorous charm boomed from large black boxes mounted on the steel support columns, the amplified and heavily accented voice shouting what was presumably team information and occasionally details about a lost person.

Down below hundreds of crewmembers swarmed around a stretch of tarmac more towards the middle of the otherwise occupied oval. For a few more minutes they lingered before finally withdrawing. Then the first of the big, heavy NASCARs rumbled to life, pulling away lazily before slowly picking up speed.

The warming lap concluded and the already substantial noise erupted into a deafening roar as dozens of the colorful rounded vehicles accelerated past a man waving a Green flag. The race had begun.

Many of his students, or even the Aurors for that matter had never seen a car race before. They'd laughed at the funny sports muggles invented, but now Carson watched with a smug look as their mouths hung open.

The big engined machines thundered down the track at speeds no broom could hope to match. From where they sat it looked as though they were touching. Every time the cars neared their section a deep rumble could be felt in their chests. The very structure they sat on vibrated from the deafening noise.

This continued for several laps before the predictable happened. Someone in this blur of metal and plastic touched or bumped a fellow driver, and the repercussions were very visible. The number 29 multicolored car skidded sideways at +200 miles per hour. White smoke erupted from the vehicle's tires as the rubber simply vaporized from the sheer heat caused by the friction forces generated.

The vehicle veered off the sloped tarmac and onto the flat concrete. Its side acted like a sail and lifted the two ton vehicle clean off the ground, hood pointing down, and spinning it over once around its axis. Amazingly it landed back on its wheels, though rather forcefully. The impact seemed to have damaged it, but its driver managed to keep rolling, finally coming to a stop next to a chest high concrete wall.

For the next minute they watched instant replays of the incident from various angles and listened to the announcers explain what happened. The wizards were amazed at the sophistication of muggle technology.

"How'd they make a pensitive that large?" one of his students asked.

Carson would have explained but it was futile with the noise around them. He'd forbidden anyone from casting noise canceling charms on the area. They were in a muggle only section of the stands after all. Yes, there were wizarding areas, but the idea of this outing was to experience things from a non-magical point of view. The more sensitive eared pupils wore big yellow earmuffs to protect their delicate eardrums. His own hearing was marginal at best.

'Standing next to an Abrahams firing its 120mm smoothbore will do that to you.' The teacher recalled as the cars roared past them once again.

With the first segment of the race complete, the large screens switched to advertisements. Carson had never too involved in sports. Yeah, he'd watched some of the games with his fellow marines when he could, and even participated in picks every so often. But he knew enough to say with certainty that NASCAR had never had the traditions of kiss cams like the NBA did.

'Then what the hell am I looking at?' he asked himself when the screen focused (seemingly at random) himself and Nym, with a corny pink border around the edges. The confused muggle raised his arm and waived meekly. Yup, definitely him. All right, time to get on with it.

Tonks didn't even know what was happening. A moment ago she'd been chasing a hand full of popcorn with a big gulp of coke, thinking to herself that muggle races could be so…exiting! Now her boyfriend pulled the pink haired girl in close for a long and not very appropriate kiss. Not that she minded. Or cared about what others thought. But still it was odd.

The kiss cam was in fact _not_ a normal part of the routine. A savvy sports director with a very sharp eye had recognized the couple sitting in an oddly dressed cluster of teenagers and correctly made the connection with London two months prior. It was easy enough to superimpose the tacky heart shaped frame over the picture, and then train one of the long distance cameras on the unsuspecting duo.

Now more people were making that same connection, while the Hogwarts Students, past and present watched in disbelief at what muggles did for entertainment. Hoots and cheers resonated through the stands. Carson finally released her with a playful wink. Tonks blinked a few times, still none the wiser, but was left with a goofy grin on her face.

Not five minutes into the second segment another collision decommissioned three more cars. The yellow colored one seemed have suffered a brake failure as a result, because at the pit its driver failed to stop and plowed over a crew member manning a jack. The lucky bastard had decent instincts Carson observed, and at least managed to get most of his body above the hood; simply bouncing off the wrecked fender and landing hard.

This was proving to be an interesting race!

Four more cars crashed in low intensity collisions, each time because the forward vehicle cut in front of a passing car. Didn't these guys have mirrors?

"Ohh c'mon!" an angry voice shouted from behind.

Some of the more competitive students, most of whom played on Quidditch teams were really getting into it, and protested when the announcer explained what had happened. There was no foul play, simply carelessness. But they weren't convinced.

Towards the end of the race another big collision occurred. As luck would have it he had his eyes down towards the bag, rummaging for a spare pair of binoculars Tonks had requested when it happened. Carson looked up in time to see smoke and wrecked metal.

The hood of another car was downright ripped off its hinges and impacted a few hundred yards down and to their left somewhere in the crowd. Orange clad medics swarmed the affected area. In the pit the black car that had tried to pass and caused the accident was literary taped back together in order to finish the race, though why Carson had no idea. Its steel tube frame was the only thing keeping it in tact after rolling twice and coming to rest on its wheels.

" _Bloody hell, muggles are insane_ ", one of the older Aurors muttered, observing as two orderlies carried a spectator towards an ambulance. Carson couldn't blame them for thinking that way. This one was nasty for sure. Almost half the cars were write-offs. But the race was almost done.

With just four laps left the back half of now reconsolidated pack went to hell in a handbasket. It was hard to tell with all the smoke, but when it cleared another half dozen cars were down for the count.

"Jesus H Christ" Carson cursed under his breath. This time one of the cars pit maneuvered another, who of course turned sideways and into the path of several others. Boxed in on all sides, the drivers had no chance to evade. It was like watching a chain reaction. The slightest external force made the wide tired race cars lose control.

The lucky ones simply spun out and caught themselves before slamming into something. The smoke obscured much of the track, and the drivers lagging behind tightened their grips on the steering wheels, praying there wasn't something waiting for them on the other side.

Yet again the Safety car came out, and would stay out until the checkered flag was waived three laps later. It was a somewhat anticlimactic finish. He'd never seen the Safety car win a race before. The crowd cheered none the less, pleased at the destruction of such an eventful race.

Carson tried to gauge how his students had liked it, but with the moving mob of people it was hard to do so. The teenagers chatted excitedly, which was probably a good sign. The mass of people was so bad it took almost 15 minutes for everyone to get off the Grand Stand they'd occupied and back towards the parking lot.

In the relatively quiet school bus the young Muggle Studies Prof started another Q&A session that lasted until they arrived at the port key location. Even the adults had joined in, much to his surprise.

The weary travel group arrived back at the School just in time for the evening meal, which had been pushed back slightly to accommodate them. Their protection detail was allowed to join as thanks for a job well done. Exhausted but in good spirits, Carson and Tonks retired to their couples suite that night and promptly passed out on the bed.

 **A/N: Wipes brow, that one was a doosie to write. I actually watched about forty minutes of highlights from the 1997 Daytona race. Luckily it was action-packed and to my understanding very accurate.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Chapter 7**

It was Mid-March by the time he'd gotten the funds to clear from the Hogwarts Board of Directors. A thousand Galleons, which equaled about 5000 British pounds. A tidy sum, and hopefully enough to suit his needs.

He met up with Tonks in Hogsmeade Saturday morning and the pair apparated into the muggle part of London. After an enjoyable breakfast with the pink haired Witch the two hit up every new and used car dealership in the greater London metropolitan area. The reason was simple. They were buying a car!

Months prior, Carson had convinced Dumbledore to expand the muggle studies class to cover Automobile operation. Considering the ubiquity of the metal muggle transport carriages the idea had merit. Almost every student knew, or at least was familiar with what an Automobile was. But the headmaster couldn't think of one in the last few years that could drive one.

So, for extra credits students could sign up for driving lessons with the American. Some of the staff even took him up on the offer. The lands around Hogwarts had picturesque roads that winded through the hilly terrain, but more importantly traffic was sparse, making it an ideal location to learn.

Carson's first car had been a 1974 Datsun 260Z, a rear wheel drive two door coupe. He missed it dearly, but doubted he'd find a twenty year old car like that one today. With only 5000 quid, as the locals referred to their money, he was squarely focused on used cars five to ten years old. Tonks had mentioned that there were repair spells that could fix mechanical machines without the time consuming labor needed to pull the complicated bits apart. He wondered briefly why Wizards and witches didn't just become mechanics. It was a foolproof way to make money.

oOo

5 hours and 3000 pounds later the two were cruising up the Motorway 1, as the British liked to all their FREEWAYS. He'd spotted a well-worn M3 sitting in a used car dealership and was instantly sold. Tonks had patched the front tire and muffler after the transaction. During the ride back to Hogwarts she'd fixed the entire interior, starting with getting the radio to play the Wizarding Wireless Network.

The downside was that it was blaring music from that terrible band she'd liked so much. The Weird Sisters or something to that end. After Sheffield they switched spots. Ted taught her to drive back in her 7th year, meaning he could catch a few winks.

Of course the back seats _HAD_ to be broken in, so a half hour detour down a forestry road was the next order of business. Car sex was more of an art than an activity, and the Metamorph had given him an O in the subject. The experience had left the muggle with sore knees but a permanent smile plastered across his face.

It was late evening before they pulled through the castle gates. The whopping willow went nuts as they drove past, though neither of them knew why. With a tired sigh the pair pulled themselves from the black car, stretching and popping stiff joints. Finch looked displeased at their late arrival, but held his tongue. It was well after curfew, and both were famished.

The next stop naturally was the kitchens, where the elves practically fell over themselves greeting the pair. Apparently the jovial creatures had placed bets on the couple after Carson's first visit. Tonks raised an eyebrow at the thought that the only muggle in the school had consulted house elves of all things on relationship advice. Then she realized that the little creatures probably knew more about each student than even the teachers.

Did her boyfriend pump the big eared creatures for information on her during her time at the school? She kept stealing curious glances at the brown haired man as they munched on sandwiches and juice, which both wolfed down with great fervor. They finally crawled into bed sometime after three, having showered first. All in all it had been a good day.

The next morning the couple entered the great hall hand in hand. The headmaster was made aware of their success the previous day, and the young couple even convinced him to go for a quick rip. It turns out the Supreme Mugwump giggled like a little schoolgirl every time the German salon was thrown sideways around a corner. But before heading back into the castle the powerful Wizard was suckered into fixing the back tires, which had been worn down quite a bit over the last hour. God he loved magic.

oOo

 **Hogwarts front gate, Scotland April 13th, 1997**

There were two students of his list today. One was a bushy haired girl by the name of Granger, and the other was Malfoy. The second surprised him, but it wasn't like he could refuse to teach. That'd be biased, and while he tended to run his mouth a little he tried to stay as professional as possible around the pint sized wand waivers. The two walked up to him, both looking rather miserable.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you didn't want to be here, but that can't be right because this here's a voluntary exercise."

He uncrossed his arms and pushed off the quarter panel, opening the door. "Miss Granger, if you'd be so kind as to sit in the back please." The girl complied, clutching a book bag like it was a floatation device or something. The reason for her riding backseat was in case the greaser tried to pull another stunt on him she'd hopefully hex his balls off.

Carson and Draco made eye contact before the elder said; "Well, get in. Oh, and I'll be taking your wand for the lesson." He held out his hand like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why not hers?" the blonde teen asked stupidly.

"Well, for one she didn't try to attack me. And the other reason is that there's a good chance it could snap when you sit down. Had it happen to a couple students before. Now hand it over."

The Slytherin grumbled in disapproval as he handed the stick over, and Carson swiftly locked it in the glove compartment.

"All right, you ever driven stick before?"

The blonde teen shook his head, still struggling to figure out the seat controls. After showing him how to adjust the seat, he ordered both his passengers to buckle up.

"Muggle traffic cops love to bust people for not wearing your belt. So make it a habit to do that before you turn over the engine, comprende?"

Both kids nodded in understanding.

"All right, now use your left foot to press down the far left pedal all the way, and keep your right foot on the center pedal. He explained what each pedal does. Hermione caught on quickly, already familiar with the terms and the general understanding of what a car does. Malfoy was another story.

He was impatient, snappy, and after 5 minutes of bunny hoping the BMW down the road Carson smacked the boy upside the head.

"Lose the attitude kid, or this isn't going to work." In the back the Gryffindor failed to hold back a giggle, and Malfoy snapped at her.

"Shut up Budblood, you think you can do better?"

Another smack on the head, this one with a bit more force. "And loose the name calling, you're 16 frikkin years old, not 5. If I hear it from your mouth again so god help me god, I will pin you to the ground and you will be eating a bar of soap!"

Draco paled. His mother had done that once after calling a distant relative the M word. It was unpleasant to say the least.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh I would. And it wouldn't be the Ivory soap either. You ever heard of Gritty Goat milk soap?"

Draco hadn't, but the name was self-explanatory.

"I'll be good!" he blurted, eyes wide with fear.

Seeing that his old-school threat seemed to work, Carson went back to the lesson.

"All right, one more time from the top. Ease off the brake, give it a little gas, and slowly, gently lift the clutch until you feel it grab." He'd asked poor Tonks to fix that part of the car half dozen times already because the damn kids were so hard on it.

Malfoy scrunched his face in concentration, and after almost stalling it managed to get it into first gear. He celebrated with an uncharacteristic whoop of excitement. Hermione raised an eyebrow, but Carson quickly told him that when the red needle passed 4 he needed to let go of the gas and press the clutch down at the same time. Draco complied and Carson, with his hand over the boys shifted the car up into second gear.

"All right, now do the opposite and give it gas while letting go of the clutch again," he instructed. The shift was very hard, rocking the car violently forward, then back again as Draco pressed the pedal down. They were on a straight stretch, so thankfully not much concentration was needed to watch the road. They continued through the motion shifting all the way to 5th, then stopping and repeating the process a few times. Most students were still a bit shaky, but managed to do this without further input by the end of the lesson. Stalling happened quite a bit, but he was no different when he started.

"Remember, when you stop the clutch needs to be pushed in." Malfoy nodded and restarted the engine.

After an hour, it was the girls turn. She had listened intently, and progressed much quicker than the blonde now sitting in the back seat. He seemed upset at this fact, but Carson soothed his ruffled feathers saying that the second student usually did better because they observed for a bit.

Finally the Professor drove them back, explaining what he wanted to cover in the next lesson and demonstrating. Both were impressed that he could shift so easily and effortlessly when all they had done for two hours was abuse the muggle motor carriage.

Draco was left with a smidge of respect for the teacher, and was secretly looking forward to the next lesson. Carson meanwhile hoped that the occasional interaction with the biased boy would open his eyes a little.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

 **I'm trying very hard to reign this fic in and line it up with some of the canon. Lots of important stuff happening soon. Just about finished with the last chapter, with a total word count of about 55k. I'm excited to finish this. Please let me know what you think, or what could use some improvement. Thanks as always for reading!**

 **Hogwarts Castle, Scotland June 30th, 1997**

Carson yawned for the hundredth time that night. It was late, and he'd spent most of the evening grading the last assignments before the end of term. Now Tonks and he were patrolling the deserted hallways, much like they often did when she drew night shift. Dumbledore had left on another field trip earlier that afternoon, meaning in addition to the two of them several other adults were also out and about. The heavy security made Carson a little nervous. One usually didn't guard something so thoroughly if there wasn't something to keep at bay. Death Eaters if he had to bet.

The old coot had evaded his questions about this supposed Dark Lord and his cronies for the last four months! Hell, he wasn't even looking for new information. Tonks had filled him in on all the recent happenings. All he wanted from Dumbledore was confirmation. The Headmaster it seemed loved to keep his staff in the dark, and it was starting to grate on his nerves.

Dropping that particular issue for now his mind focused on the next and perhaps bigger one.

Summer was coming up soon, and honestly Carson wasn't sure what to do once the students left. Visiting his parents and siblings was on the top of his to do list, though not by choice. Mom had written back, pestering him about Nym and when she'd finally be able to meet his new lady friend. So far he'd been able to hold her at bay, but both of them knew that with Summer break just around the corner he'd have no excuses left to hide behind. To make matters worse the semi-annual family reunion in a few weeks would force his hand.

'Well, now would be a good as time as any to tell her…', the grim young man thought, shooting his Auror girlfriend a fleeting look. They rounded a corner and noticed a faint green glow illuminating the stone floor in front of the windows. Curious they peeked out. Tonks gasped.

" _What is that?"_ Somehow the dark mark had never come up in conversation, and the Muggle Professor hadn't the faintest idea what had Tonks' panties in such a twist. Personally he thought the Green skull and snake looked tacky. Before she could explain faint sounds of spell fire could be heard somewhere in the castle.

The paintings actually proved themselves useful for once and reported of a battle on the seventh floor near the stairs to the astronomy tower. The pair bolted down the hall, Tonks slightly ahead because she actually knew where to go. The former student and troublemaker ducked between a suit of armor and a large support arch up a secret passageway. The narrow shortcut was not lit and Carson tripped several times on the dusty stairs.

When they re-emerged on the next floor two prone figures lay sprawled out on the floor ahead. The Death eaters were nowhere to be found. Remus and Kingsley came running from an adjacent corridor. Tonks had begun to cast some simple healing and blood clotting charms on the first unconscious man. He had red hair similar to the Weasleys, but that didn't really mean much. A lot of people here were gingers, what with Ireland so close.

Remus was about to ask what happened when a half dozen masked individuals came barreling down the stairs, wands drawn and casting wildly. The three magic capable members of their party parried and blocked before engaging, while the other three intruders ducked into a side passage. Carson pulled the injured they'd found out of the line of fire when yet another person descended the stairs. The lighting was bad, but he recognized the round glasses on the student's face as those belonging to Harry Potter. The fact that he wore Hogwarts robes also helped.

Unable to pursue, the Professor drew his own sidearm and fired at a tall blond haired man whose mask had come off. Two rounds hit center mass before he threw up a shield, deflecting the next three shots. It held for only a few seconds before massive blood loss took its toll on the Wizards body. Carsons aim was true, hitting the man near if not right in the heart. The three on three duel became unbalanced, now in favor of the defenders. The remaining two swiftly disengaged and darted behind a large tapestry. Their mortally wounded friend was stunned by the defenders and left where he'd collapsed.

The hallways were becoming crowded as students woke up and ventured beyond their houses common rooms to investigate. Several of them had injures from the now clearly retreating Death eaters. 'Something must have happened up by the observatory', Carson concluded while shifting the badly injured 'maybe a Weasley' on his back. Why had Mr. Potter been up there?

They ran into Filius and Aurora. Carson knew the short charms professor was a far better choice when it came to perusing and subduing whomever had done this. Their shields could block his fire, and even worse all he could do was dodge the incoming spells.

"You guys go on ahead", he hollered at the magicals. "I'll take Aurora and carry these two to the hospital wing."

With a nod Kingsley handed the unconscious Longbottom to the Astronomy professor.

Poppy too had been woken by the fighting, and in anticipation of what would no doubt be a very busy night prepared accordingly. While the long haired and pierced red head, Bill was his name he learnt, looked worse off it was in fact Neville that had taken the bigger punishment.

The mediwitch cast diagnostic charms at both before rushing into the adjacent storage room to fetch a half dozen stoppered vials containing god knows what. Four of them dosed up the younger man, while the curse breaker received two. Carson and Aurora didn't stick long after that and headed towards the great hall, ready to assist if need be.

The castle was a mess. Someone had been very liberal in their use of blasting curses he noted, seeing the deep gauges and pits that dotted the walls around the entryway. The perfects and head students had been charged with corralling the mostly pajama clad pupils and leading them back to their houses.

The courtyard was even more clogged than the hallways. A mob of students, teachers and the protection detail assigned to the school stood around one spot. Hagrid was easily spotted towering over the rest. Despite his not unsubstantial 190 lbs build it took a few moments to muscle his way through the group of wizards and witches.

The sight made him curse involuntarily. Before him rested the physical remains of the Headmaster. His eyes were closed, and he had a peaceful look on his face. The former marine had seen plenty of death before. Burnt corpses hanging halfway out of tank hatches, mangled limbs blown apart by coalition aircraft. Miles and miles of burnt out vehicles, often with their occupants still sitting inside, unable to get out.

But he'd never dealt with someone he'd known personally dead, just lying there. Hell, he'd seen Dumbledore earlier that day. They'd talked about muggle candy.

'Shit!'

The faces around him looked solemn. Several of the younger students cried. No one had thought of moving them inside yet. Carson found Tonks in the crowd, leaning heavily against the Minerva . Young Ms. Weasley was consoling Harry Potter, who'd arrived a few moments before Carson. He wanted to talk to Tonks, comfort her, and make sure she was all right. But now wasn't the time.

The Muggle Studies Professor gently collected several of the youngest and shortest looking of the group and guided them back into the castle. They sat at the end of the Hufflepuff table, closest to the doors. He didn't recognize who was in witch house, but no one seemed to mind sitting at the badgers table tonight.

Carson frowned at their emotionless, thousand yard stares. He'd seen that look plenty back in the Gulf. Damn it, kids shouldn't have to see this sort of thing at all! He called one of the Hogwarts house elves and asked it to get several mugs of hot chocolate.

The usually loud and lively great hall was silent, and only occasionally broken only by the sipping and slurping under his encouragement. Eventually the first of the adults began to filter in. The little ones cheeks had gained a bit of color over the previous minutes, and they seemed coherent enough for him to ask Pomona to take them back to their beds. No doubt they'd need grief counselling. Hopefully the Wizarding World had such a thing available.

There were only adults around now. A dozen high ranking ministry officials had arrived at the school along with a several squads of the red coated Aurors. Then something really strange happened. They actually asked him to leave. Carson complied, although reluctantly. The fact that none of the staff or even Tonks interjected stung.

With that one request the carefully built illusion of fitting in with these people shattered. They didn't trust him, despite all the forms he'd signed, the relationships he'd forged, and time spent here in Hogwarts. He could have protested, but nothing would have come of it. They all had power he couldn't hope to match. If he refused, they'd just forcefully remove him.

He briefly considered eavesdropping but decided against that as well. There would no doubt be sound dampening spells cast for whatever they would discuss.

The young prof revisited the spot where Dumbledore had fallen. Only a faint depression remained in the grass, but he remained there none the less, just staring, and wondering what the next step was. He remembered their first encounter, just under a year ago in his old apartment. It felt like a lifetime ago.

oOo

Knocking woke him from a deep slumber the next morning. He'd fallen asleep at his desk sometime around 0300. The sharp sound of knuckles hitting the ancient wood rather than the bottom of a fist told him that it wasn't his dear Witch girlfriend. She'd pounded on the door for a good 20 minutes last night, trying to talk to him. Carson had the foresight of barricading the door the good old fashioned way, with a heavy beam. It seemed locks were only for show in this castle, considering every first year and up could unlock them using the Alohomora spell.

He didn't want to see her, and thanks to the noise couldn't sleep, so he dove back into his remaining work, ignoring the cursing, yelling, and banging. The puddle of drool on one of the essays attested to how far he got.

With a few pops from his back the young man stood and closed the distance from his desk to the door.

"Professor McGonegall. Or should I say Headmistress", he greeted the worn looking Witch in a cool tone. "What can do for you?"

They'd never fully reconciled following that first encounter at this very threshold almost a year ago. Her face remained impassive, but deep down she sympathized at his exclusion last night from what was essentially a school related matter.

Mob mentality had won, and to her shame the lack of a proper peer to peer relationship had kept her from coming to his aid, as she should have. She had the power to overrule what Moody had said considering this was school business, but she didn't want to squabble with the De Facto Order leader so soon after Albus's death. They needed to present a strong front.

"The Headmaster's will was read this morning." She handed him a yellowed envelope. "This was left for you."

Carson accepted the letter wordlessly. She lingered a bit longer, prompting him to ask;

"Is there anything else Ma'am?"

He always added the courtesy when dealing with superior officers he didn't like. Carson supposed she was now his boss.

"There will be a funeral later today. I'm sure all of the staff would appreciate it if you could make it."

Carson nodded. He had no quarrel with the old man, other than the secrets he chose to keep. But something told him that there were answers to be found on the parchment in his hand. No, to not go to his funeral would be to dishonor his memory.

"I'll be there."

Not even bothering to lock or even close the door he ripped open the seal and started reading.

oOo

 **Hogwarts Grounds, Scotland July 1st, 1997**

It was becoming apparent that he'd entered the Wizarding World at a less than stellar moment in history, Carson surmised during another speech at Albus Perceval Wulfrick Brian Dumbledore's Funeral. He didn't even know about the middle names! There was a full-fledged civil war being waged. It was simmering at the moment, but as with every conflict would soon reach a boiling point. The attack on the school had proven that. Dumbledore's letter explained a lot of things, and he'd definitely take the former headmaster's warning to heart.

 **But** he couldn't in good conscience leave now, even when the logical part of his mind was screaming 'not my fight'. His dismissal yesterday hadn't helped, but despite their distrust for him he still cared for these people. Some of his colleagues he'd even consider friends. Tonks was far more than a friend. Dare he say he probably loved her. No, he wouldn't leave. He'd fight. With this Order of the Phoenix.

After the wake he located Tonks, talking to an older fellow and the closest thing to a pirate Carson had ever seen. It was the same guy who'd kicked him out only a few hours before. After a quick introduction, he pulled the mouse gray haired Auror aside.

"I know about the Order of the Phoenix. I want to join."

Tonks frowned, not at all happy with the idea. She'd tried to apologize yesterday without luck. But whatever she'd meant to tell him evaporated with his request.

"Absolutely not! You have no idea what you'd be getting into, and I won't let you waste your life fighting something you can't win against."

He'd never fought with her, he realized then. Tonks had always been easy going, try anything once kind of person. But not so now. She was speaking as an Auror, not the happy go lucky girl he was used to. Carson realized Dumbledore must have been a bigger influence on these people than he previously realized.

"Look, I know you think I'd be helpless, but I disagree. Either you let me join, or I fight this Vadermort guy solo. Both of us know which one has a better chance of working."

"You don't even know his name!"she shot back with disbelief. Her hair changed from gray to fiery red as she got worked up. He thought it looked cute. "How the hell are you supposed to fight the guy if you know nothing about him?"

"Yeah",he admitted, crossing his arms."It would be harder without you and your outfit. But last time I checked the Order was primarily an intelligence gathering group. The eyes and ears for your 'light' side. What I did...who I worked for before becoming a teacher… That's the sword. The arrow. The tip of the damn spear. I know how to fight. I have training you can't even begin to comprehend. Hell, you guys don't even use the unforgivable to fight back. How are you supposed to win like that? Fire needs to be fought with more fire! He's already demonstrated just how shoddy the security at your prison is, and yet the ministry still uses capture only methods to fight."

Christ, someone needed to slap some sense into these people. Tonks crossed her arms and shook her head. She was starting to cry. He hated when girls cried.

"Listen Nym. Muggles have weapons that are very powerful. Help me get some of these, while I try to assemble some of my old war buddies, and the Order will have a fighting force that those little death eating shits can't match. You provide the Intel and a little magic to grease the wheels, and we'll pound those fuckers into the ground like fence posts."

She still didn't look convinced, but he could tell she was listening.

"I'll even hang back for the first bit. Get you people to teach me all I need to know to improve the odds in a fight. Just let me do something! I won't stand idly by while you fight. I care too much to let that happen."

Carson pursed his lips, then looked up and added; "I-…I love you."

The poorly timed confession left her speechless. Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. Neither broke eye contact, but Carson was beginning to worry. Memories of New Year's echoed through his head.

' _Remember, she's a heart breaker'_

Would she turn him away?

'Oh god, please say it back!'

Finally Tonks moved, hugging him tightly, and began sobbing into his jacket. Carson just held her, stroking her hair and generally trying to avoid looking at the various people giving the couple curious looks.

The last 12 hours had been hard on the Witch. She'd felt horrible when Moody sent him away.

' _ **He's nothing more than a muggle!'**_ The old Auror had growled _ **.**_

' _ **If you really care for the lad you'll do the smart thing and push him out of yerr life."**_

She'd protested, but ultimately the damn bastard was right as usual. So she'd gone to find him, dreading the upcoming talk they'd have to have. Their suite was vacant, and Carson didn't have a favorite place within the school. Her suspicions were confirmed when the door to his classroom wouldn't budge.

After cussing and banging and threatening to bust the door down one of the teachers escorted her back to the couple's quarters. He hated her, and tomorrow she'd dump him for no reason other than being different. Tonks wept that night, cursing the damn war, and the Wizarding societies prejudice against muggles.

The tears now though weren't those of sorrow, but happiness. He loved her! Didn't hate her, even though she'd stood with her kind yesterday instead of by his side. No, she wouldn't just tell him off for his own safety. If he was willing to stay, she'd make damn sure no one harmed him. Moody could just sod off!

" _Ui Lueb ue tue"_ she blubbered, face still in his now wet shoulder. Despite the crying, the fact that they were at a funeral, or that they would soon be throughst into a war, Carson had never felt so unbelievably happy in his entire life. She pulled away slightly, allowing him to lean down and kiss her salty, puckered lips.

" _C'mon"_ , he said before draping an arm around her shoulder _. "Let's get plastered in Dumbledore's honor."_

She giggled and hiccupped as he guided her back towards the crowd.

oOo

 **London suburb of Greenwich, England July 6th, 1997**

The academic year had ended, and he'd declined Headmaster McGonagall's offer of staying at the school over summer in favor of living with Tonks in her London flat. The drive down from Scotland had been long, and he'd been ready to crash when he arrived.

Carson dropped the trunk in the entryway of the small single bedroom apartment and took in his immediate surroundings. For a moment he thought this was the wrong place. But the key did fit, and it wasn't one of those magical master keys that could open any door. He'd checked.

No, his girlfriend was simply a slob. It smelt musty. Her wardrobe seemed encompass the living and dining rooms. The kitchen was no better. Dirty dishes and pots littered the counters. The sink was surprisingly empty. He didn't dare look in the bathroom.

After locating the stacking washer dryer combo he found it to be one of those compact models that could at most handle 5 socks and a dishcloth. The heaped piles of clothes went into his expandable pouch along with a metal note to find a laundromat ASAP.

Carson would have continued cleaning, but this place didn't contain any of the usual household chemicals one would normally find. He desperately hoped she didn't just use the magical cleaning charms on everything. Those spells probably didn't cover germs. Not that he was a germaphobe or anything. But the resulting stomach bug was nothing to laugh at. Grabbing his coat he headed outside, mentally compiling a list, at the top of which was Bleach!

oOo

The Order meeting had dragged on till the wee hours of the morning. Dumbledore had been their leader since its inception back in the late 70's. His death had left the group practically headless. While she agreed that Moody was the best man in terms of experience, she worried that membership would become quite hazardous from this point on. Up until now their purpose had always been to slow down Voldemort without actually picking any fights unless absolutely necessary.

Alastor on the other hand would probably declare all-out war on the Death Eaters. She sighed at the idea of having him as a boss at her actual job as well as this side gig.

The young Phoenix fumbled with the keys, grumbling to herself at the dim hallway lights. Of course she couldn't use her wand. The wards around the door would set of half a dozen alarms if magic was used to gain entry. The dang key was finally located, and she opened the door with what seemed her last bit of strength. Nymphedora blinked several times at the sight of her apartment. It was spotless, save for the single book open in front of the sofa.

The air smelt faintly of muggle chemicals, and lemons. The windows were all wide open, and a cool breeze fluttered the curtains and tickled her skin. She carefully sat down, mindful not to wake him. With a touch as light as a feather she stoked his hair. He'd need to get it cut soon, she thought with a small smile.

The previously short cropped brown hair now covered his forehead, occasionally getting in his eyes. It was a shame really, to cover those steel blue orbs like that. Deciding not to wake her new house elf Tonks rose to leave, only for a hand to grab her arm.

"Hmm, stay." He mumbled.

Tonks shed her Auror coat and stretched the sofa to fit them both comfortably. That's as far as she got before the half conscious Muggle pulled her down into his waiting arms. The Witch was out thirty seconds later.

The next morning both decided that 23 was too old to be sleeping on a couch. They also agreed that the kitchen would stay cleaner longer if they ate out, so eggs and toast were found at a nearby Breakfast Club.

"So, when do I get to come to one your little club meetings?" Carson asked mockingly with a full mouth. Her response was a far too serious frown _._

"We put it up to a vote yesterday. Moody was intrigued by your service, and took the liberty of pulling up your file."

"He can do that?" the young man sitting across the table asked in genuine surprise between bites of toast.

Tonks rolled her eyes at him. "Luv, he filed the request as soon as he heard you took down Thorfinn Rowle."

"Oh." he simply replied before washing the last piece of Sourdough down with a good amount of OJ. The waitress came back to refill his coffee mug, which earned her a bright smile and a shy thank you from the cute American. Tonks glared at her.

"But to answer your question", she continued… "Yes you can join. I'm supposed to escort you there for the next meeting."

"About time" he grumbled before sipping from the white ceramic mug. Tonks rolled her eyes. The visual reminded him of his sister, who'd done the same whenever he spoke to her.

Wait a minute. Sister = Family.

'Ah crap! The reunion.'

"Hey Tonks" Carson tried to say as innocently as possible. Her BS sensor was up and running however, giving him away before he'd even gotten to mentioning whatever brawny idea he'd come up with now.

"What?" the tone was skeptical, and somewhat annoyed.

He sighed, not even bothering to sugar-coat this. "My folks want **us** to stop by the family reunion next week." He waited for her to hone in on the word 'us', not me.

"They want to meet me?"

"Yeah. And the thing is I kinda sorta already agreed we'd stop by."

Carson could FEEL her death glare.

If looks could kill. Well, from what he'd learnt in the last year about a big snake they in fact could. Good thing it was very rare trait to have.

To his surprise Tonks dropped the matter, simply going with an 'OK'

Carson KNEW that she'd get payback later. The realization put him on edge for the rest of the day. They paid for the meal and strolled back to their flat, unaware that they were being followed. Tonks stuck around for another half hour before heading to work.

Since Dumbledore's death the Dark Lord's followers have become more brazen. She had a pile of paperwork waiting for her as a result and procrastinating only worked so long. On top of that Moody wanted her on Potter guard duty tonight. Bahhh!

oOo

The first thing that Tonks noticed was amiss when she returned home later that night would have been that her front door was no longer fulfilling its purpose in keeping people out of her Flat. The second was the copious amounts of yellow CAUTION tape the muggle police liked to use to secure their crime scenes. The visual cues dredged up memories of the Bones murder. The thought of what she might find inside her home made the young Witch's stomach flip. Carson had been home all day.

It took all of her considerable willpower not to pull her wand. Logic told her that the danger was over since the Police was there. With an uneasy gulp she ducked under the yellow barrier and instantly drew the attention of a uniformed bobby.

"Sorry miss, but I'm afraid you can't be here."

"This is my Flat" Tonks stated firmly, not bothering to meet the man's gaze, instead looking at a pair of boots peeking out from a white sheet. They didn't look like the ones he preferred to wear. That told her he fought back. And that in turn gave her a small semblance of hope.

"Regardless miss, this is a crime scene. Please step outside. I'll call the Inspector out to get your statement."

She didn't have time for this shite. Tonks let her wand slip out of its holster and stunned the officer.

There was spell damage, she observed after a more thorough scan of the living and kitchen areas. A quick peek under the sheet revealed a strangers face looking sideways, and her kitchen knife stuck in the base of his skull. Despite the fact that there was a dead person in her kitchen she couldn't help but feel a grim satisfaction that this scum had been dispatched so thoroughly by her boyfriend. After all, it had a very muggle M.O kind of feel to it.

Tonks moved on, noting the small round marks in the wall across from the bedroom door. The graying man didn't even have time to look up from his notes before she stunned him as well. The second body lay just inside the bedroom, a large pool of red around its crumpled form. The room was in shambles. Not a single piece of furniture was left intact.

The window was smashed.

A quick peek outside showed more of the muggle police people swarming around another clearly dead figure, hidden under a white sheet. She cursed herself for apparating into the seldom used mechanical room instead of the alleyway across the street. All because her lazy arse didn't want to take the stairs!

With a crack she appeared there, then walked right past the police tape to see who this last corpse belonged to. Seeing that he'd successfully defended himself, she felt more certain that he was still alive. This time she remembered to cast a muggle notice me not charm to keep the stupid questions at bay.

The head was a pile of mush, but the distinct barrel chest and clawed hands were unmistakable. After moving back into the alleyway she sent a messenger Patronus to headquarters. Tonks should have done that immediately after seeing the tape. She cursed again. There were three dead Werewolves in and around her place, and no sign of the one person that _should_ have been there.

oOo

"Carson! Thank Merlin you're ok." She squeezed him tight, and his repeated tap-outs and barely audible wheezing were ignored. She'd received a message from her mother that Carson was safe and sound at their house. Tonks had practically dropped what she was doing (which wasn't much) and apparated straight to her old family home.

Andy finally saved the hapless injured man from her overbearing daughter. "Nymphedora dear, you should probably let him breathe at some point. He has broken ribs after all."

"Oh, right." She reluctantly let go, but looked him over with a critical eye _._ "You weren't bitten by any of them were you? Carson, those guys were Werewolves following Voldemort."

"Werewolves? Really? They were freakishly strong, but lacked any formal sort of training." He croaked. "The biggest problem was their boss. Guy had hair all over his face and must have been a good six and a half feet tall." He gingerly probed his side with two fingers and was rewarded with a sharp pain that made him wince. "But to answer your question, No, I wasn't bitten. Just tossed around a bit."

"That was Fenrir Grayback, their leader. Merlin, how on Earth did you kill him?" Tonks was pacing, running her shaking hands through her white hair. "He practically had no face left!"

Carson grunted in pain when Andromeda swabbed the cuts on his arms with iodine.

"Honestly, I thought the fall would have done him in, but he seemed to have fared better than I did. Luckily I still had my backup piece on me. Shot him as he was trying to pull himself out of that mangled car."

She snorted at how casually he was recalling the last two hours.

"You know Remus wanted to kill Grayback. And Bill as well. I'm not sure whether they'll thank you or beat you for what you did to him."

He crossed his arms defensively, careful not to rub against any of the open wounds.

"Hey, it's not like I went out looking for the guy. He practically kicked in the door to our flat."

She laughed, and not for the first time observed her hair change. The white turned into her signature pink.

"Hey Nym, why does your hair do that? I've never seen any of the students change their hair, not without their wands anyway. I saw it at Albus's funeral, and now again."

Tonks cursed at her slip up.

Andromeda patted the bandaged young man on the leg and took that as her cue to leave.

"I'll leave you two be."

Tonks nervously played with the hem of her robes as her mother exited the room, leaving a mildly confused Carson sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Tonks" She didn't look up.

"Nym! Don't make me call you by your full name." He teased.

"Fine! But don't be mad ok." Carson was surprised. Why was she acting guilty? It was a simple question he'd asked. Did her shampoo involve using ritual sacrifices?

He sat down across from her and took her hand. "I'm not going to be mad… Just vengeful _."_ He winked at her. The young witch sighed.

"I'm special, even amongst magicals." She didn't want to tell him.

"If this is another Vampire joke…"

She giggled, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"You're impossible. No, I'm what's called a Metamortph. I can change my appearance using magic."

Carson nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"That's it" she concluded.

"That's it?" He repeated. "You can shapeshift. That's the big secret?"

Honestly, he was a bit confused. Maybe it was the pain, or Andy's drug cocktail suppressing most of the former. Probably the adrenaline crash from jumping out of a perfectly good 5th story window. He shook his head.

"Sorry cutie pie, but why did you think I would hate you for being able to change your hair color?"

She blinked rapidly. He didn't ask her to change into someone he knew?

"I don't think you're grasping this completely." She changed her nose to emulate a pig. He held his breath but the laughs eventually slipped out. Then the pain won and he gasped.

"Tonks, stop!" he groaned. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She was beginning to get mad.

"I can change into whomever you fancy! Do you get it now?" She stood, hands balled into fists. His carefree attitude evaporated when he realized just how upset the whole situation was making her. Finally it clicked and he realized why she didn't tell him. Hell, who could blame her? Carson knew what guys were like. With a sigh he leaned back into the sofa.

"You're worried I'll ask you to change." He stated matter-of-factly. She nodded. "I get it now. Why you didn't tell me. But Tonks, I fell in love with the very person standing right in front of me." He stood with gritted teeth, even though the motion was painful.

"I'd be an idiot to ask you to change. "He stroked her arms reassuringly. "Also, I'm pretty sure you'd hex my balls off if I asked you to look like one of my stude..." he had to duck to avoid the borderline dark curse she sent his way. "Just kidding! Sweet Jesus Woman!"

" **I spill me secrets and you joke around!"** she half cried half yelled. Before she could loosen another volley at the poor couch he leapt from his hiding space and bear hugged the emotional witch.

"I'm sorry! Tonks, really, I didn't mean to joke around. It's just what I do when I'm nervous." The physical contact calmed her somewhat, at least enough not to potentially maim him.

"Look, what kind of guy would I be if I took advantage of you like that? I don't care if you can look different. I wouldn't care if you were a regular muggle like me. I love you. It's what's inside you that counts. You're funny, and smart, and so many more things than just a pretty face. Though your face is pretty, don't get me wrong."

He was starting to ramble.

"Even if you look like a shriveled up prune in fifty years, it doesn't matter to me."

He could hear the sniffles again. He hoped calling her future self a prune didn't cause her to try and kill him again. How come he always made her cry? Damn it!

"C'mon Nym. Cheer up. We got one of Voldeschmorts bad guys today."

She rolled her bloodshot eyes at the outrageous name.

"You won't ask me to change? Ever?"

"I swear." He immediately assured her, squashing his perverted mind's very loud protests of the possibilities. The confirmation reassured her enough to finally hug him back.

"Though I do have one question." She stilled, having an idea as to what he'd ask. "Is this what you normally look like?"

She didn't reply immediately. Carson knew better than to press, but didn't have to.

"No",she said quietly.

"Can I see?"

Tonks backed up and willed her magic to return her to her normal form. Carson watched as her facial structure morphed to one similar to her mom's. The pink hair turned black, and her eye color, a thing he'd never really been able to memorize turned hazel.

Carson gave her a crooked smile. "You're beautiful." Tonks returned the smile and they embraced once more.

In the next room Andromeda couldn't help but smile. Ever since they'd found out their little girl was Metamorph they'd worried about what her peers would ask of her. This boy would be good for her. A single tear slipped down her cheek on the way upstairs.

 **A/N: Ohh the feels! I hope this wasn't too mushy. I'm pretty rotten at writing emotionally loaded scenes. next chapter will revisit the apartment fight scene, this time from the protagonists' view.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**

 **This was the second time he'd been in a pensitive. As before, he could see his memories self, chopping greens in the kitchen for dinner. Seeing him hold that knife made him realize it had probably saved his life. Tonks placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder while the rest of the Order members watched from various places around the now cramped looking flat.**

 **Without much warning the front door blew in, ripped from its hinges. Moody shimmered as it flew through him. The old bastard didn't even flinch. The Carson from the memory however did before taking action and spinning the knife around by the handle. The first of three ragged and very pungent smelling men entered the flat. The still injured muggle didn't even realize he'd remembered what they smelt like, and marveled at what the brain stored even during stressful events.**

 **The man spotted his target from the hallway and leapt forward. The idiot didn't even pull his wand, too cocky in his perceived ability to kill the harmless muggle. Carson sidestepped and slammed the knife into the base of the man's skull as he rushed past. His drill instructor would have screamed at him for his poor stance and excessive movement, he realized after watching the move from 5 feet away.**

 **The second intruder shot off a spell as Carson slid over the counter, knocking down the cutting board and his now ruined supper ingredients. A second more destructive follow-up blasted a portion of wall apart as he slipped into the master bedroom. Moody paused the memory and followed their embattled colleague inside.**

 **The still frozen past self was crouched by the bed, trusty M9 expertly trained towards the door, both eyes open, a focused look on his face. Carson opened fire the moment henchman number 2 walked in front of the lined up three dot sight. Half a dozen shots felled the man two steps into the bedroom.**

 **At the time he'd had no idea how many more had found their way into the apartment, so he stayed put. Fenrir's Wand was the first thing he saw, followed by the unmistakable green of a killing curse. It missed the ex-marine by centimeters, and only because he'd leaped on the bed and crushed the wooden frame in the process. With so little room to move all he could do was continue the roll to the other side. The mattress exploded in a shower of white. The reduced visibility allowed him to fire in the general direction of the dark creature. Only now did he see that one single bullet had passed through his targets shoulder.**

 **With an angry roar the massive Werewolf charged. Carson ducked the first slow but powerful swing and managed to land several of his own that didn't even slow the man down. With a yellow clawed hand the Seattle native was tossed across the room, demolishing Tonks' dresser in the process. Grayback paused long enough for the muggle to inspect some of Tonks's less sensible delicates and allowing him to rise before advancing again.**

 **The Women in the memory shot Carson evil glares before returning to the fight at hand. The twins grinned like maniacs.**

 **Clearly the far more powerful Werewolf didn't take his opponent seriously. Again the smaller and leaner Professor opted to dodge instead of blocking. He had the speed, and could strike at will, but his blows weren't powerful enough to hurt.**

 **Any normal man would have crumpled at the precision strikes he delivered to the soft tissue targets. Grayback landed a hard right that nearly knocked Carson down, allowing him to finally grab the slippery human and pin him to the floor. The dazed muggle regained his bearing just as the beast was about to tear into him and flipped his opponent using his legs, which the Death Eater had neglected to secure.**

 **Grayback landed in front of the window, grunting in pain when his injured shoulder took the brunt of his weight. By this point only about 15 seconds had passed since the start of the scuffle. But Carson was far past the whole fight or flight instinct at that point, and charged without thinking. The rugby style tackle propelled both combatants out the window.**

 **The flabbergasted order members looked from the shattered remains of the window to Carson, then back to the window. He winced when they heard the thud of Grayback smashing the roof of a parked sedan 40 feet below. Pausing again to reach the street, they found a frozen in place Carson pointing a cheap Saturday night special at the equally frozen Fenrir struggling to extract himself from the flattened car.**

 **Carson emptied the clip into the creatures head with a series of sharp cracks.**

 **In retrospect it seemed excessive, and the shocked muggles who'd come to help certainly agreed. But the weak .22 barley had enough to punch through the Werewolf's thick skull, so it was better safe than sorry. With a limp and holding his side the victor hobbled into a nearby alleyway. He'd later drive the two hours to Andy and Ted's place using the spare key hidden under the rear passenger side wheel arch of the BMW.**

The memory faded and they were back at Order headquarters.

"You're a crazy bastard!" Ron muttered before his classmate Hermione smacked him. She looked a little green around the gills. Moody looked proud, which Tonks thought was a scary emotion to see on the old coot's face.

Carson looked at the assembled group of members.

"I gotta say, if this is your idea of Member initiation it leaves a lot to be desired", he quipped. "Oh, that reminds me. Did you pick up my gun by chance?"

The peg legged Auror pulled the muggle weapon from his coat and handed it butt first to his very sore newest subordinate. The way he gave it back led Carson to think the man had encountered firearms at one point or another.

Seeing the questioning look Alastor simply responded with; "23rd SAS Regiment, D Squadron".

"Son of a Bitch" Carson muttered, truly impressed. Who woulda thought the grouchy old bear was part of the Special Air Service.

"3rd Battalion 1st Marines, but you already know that." Carson shook the fellow soldier's hand.

They settled around the spacious kitchen table. Moody pulled out his flask while the rest (with the exception of Mr. Wealey and Miss Granger) passed around a sizable bottle of Fire Whiskey.

"The Dark Lord is going to be pissed" one of the Twins said with glee. Remus swallowed a large mouthful of liquor with a grimace before piping in.

"Grayback had a pretty solid position with the pack. No one could match him physically. If word got out that a Muggle killed him?" Remus snorted with amusement. "I couldn't imagine a better way to sully his reputation."

Carson wasn't sure whether to take that one as a compliment or not.

"We've got to tell Bill!" the youngest Weasley present added.

"Yeah, we will." Moody dismissed the red head. He turned to look at Carson. "Kid, when the Prophet gets wind of this Voldemort will put you to the very top of his kill list, right below Potter himself."

Carson shrugged. "Considering he just sent his pet dog to off me I'm sure nothing's really changed. So he's got even more of a hard-on for me. Big deal."

Several people around the table choked on their drinks at the mental image of Voldemort with a boner.

Carson continued, ignorant of the mental scaring he'd just inflicted.

"Maybe now he'll order his lackeys to capture instead of kill on sight just so he can Crucio me to death. Sounds like a win for me." He narrowed one eye before adding; "so long he doesn't actually torture me to death."

Moody laughed for the first time in years. The sound sent shivers down everyone's backs.

After dinner Molly ordered a several of the younger order members (all of them her kids) to clean up a pair of bedrooms for the newly homeless pair. Both Tonks and Carson tried to protest that one was fine, but Molly was like on some sort of evil cock blocking mission. Not that there would have been much in the way of extracurricular activities for the Auror and Professor.

The ribs were the worst. Andy explained how they'd vanish the broken bits before pouring what must have been THE worst tasting potion in existence down his throat. It turned out it was. He also didn't like Poppy very much after the slew of vials she forced him to shoot back. Honestly, it was almost better just to wait the good old fashioned way.

oOo

 **Town of Hobart , King County, Washington July 14th, 1997**

Despite the…excitement of the previous week Tonks and Carson found themselves stepping out of a rental car in front of the latter's old Childhood home on a sunny Saturday afternoon. He was getting used to Portkeys now, but would probably never like them. It did beat flying economy though, or worse yet in the back of an AC-130. The drone of those propeller powered pieces of junk can drive people insane. The magical device had deposited them in Seattle, and from there it was only a forty minute drive to good ol Hobart.

Hobart was a small outlying community sitting in the foothills of the Cascade Range. With a population of only five thousand or so it was both a great place to grow up and a terrible place, at least until you were finally old enough to get a license. Tonks didn't comment on the rural setting. It was similar to where she'd grown up after all.

The spacious detached bungalow had a typical 80's era vinyl sided exterior, not particularly impressive looking but in tune with the rest of the street. The House itself was rather large, but then again so were most of the dwellings in the neighborhood. Parcel sizes ranged from half an acre to over two, which was owned by the Harrisons at the end of the cul-de-sac. As a result it was the perfect place to play host, with big, flat yards and good privacy.

Seeing how it was such a nice day he doubted anyone was actually in the house. They left the luggage in the trunk, opting to get it later and headed around the side. There were several RV's and tents that dotted the pristine greenspace. A large table sat near the covered patio, about a third the size of one of the Hogwarts house tables. A quick scan revealed dozen of faces he hadn't seen in years, as well as several he'd never seen at all! New spouces, kids, ect. Yup, his extended family was about as big as the Weasleys.

Carmel Wolf saw her youngest son and homed in on them like a torpedo. With a squeal of joy she bear hugged the hapless young man. Tonks smiled as she looked him over. Eager to divert his mother cooing and fawning Carson introduced Tonks. Carmel was short and stockier, much like Molly. But her hair was black, and had an insane amount of volume. Her skin was tanned, something she contributes to her Spanish roots.

Mr. Wolf walked over next to greet them. Carson could tell his Dad didn't like the color of Tonks' hair, but thankfully held his tongue. Carson had always been a quiet one, so finally seeing him bring a girl home was something neither parent would get in the way of. Besides, the boy had said she was a Police Officer over there so she must be fine upstanding member of society, right?

"Pete Wolf, pleasure to meet you." he held out his hand. She smiled sweetly, taking the offered greeting and shaking it.

"Worcher, I'm Tonks."

For the next thirty minutes they couple continued shaking hands and dishing out introductions. Carson got to see his newborn niece for the first time, an adorable little peanut snoozing under a Sunshade and protected by two very intimidating but completely harmless guard dogs. He smacked one upside the head when it had the audacity to growl at him. Tonks was very taken with the newborn, and the twinkle he saw in his mother's eye could have given Dumbledore a run for his money.

In all though the visit was pleasant, and Tonks was well liked. Maybe a little too much in fact. Carson had several male sibling and cousins that were practically falling over themselves to greet the pretty young Witch. As if it wasn't already clear enough Carson staked his claim for all to see with a borderline scandalous kiss after they complimented her 'Cute accent' for the umpteenth time. Even as a child he'd always had to share with those bastards, but ohh no not in this case.

Dinner was great. His folks had gone all out with the food preparations, and everything from Ribs to steaks, mashed potatoes to BBQ corn and a billion different kinds of salads were available in spades. The only rule was BYOB, or Bring your own Booze. They'd hit a liquor store on the way here, and unfamiliar with the selection Tonks bought many different things. The new coolers were an instant favorite with the Metamorph.

She then proceeded to drink all of his relatives under the table. Either a Witches metabolism was faster than that of a muggles, or the Fire whiskey he'd been shooting on a regular basis with her had conditioned him to handle what she'd referred to as watered down piss.

Either way when all was said and done the pair were the only ones sober enough to walk away from the table. Tomorrow morning he'd have to demonstrate his skill on the drum set, Carson thought with a malicious grin.

oOo

"Carson, you complete and utter asshole" Dwayne Wolf groaned, never removing his forehead off the kitchen table.

"I'd have to agree with him there", Mandy Wolf supplied sourly. "Do you know how long it took to get Vivian to fall asleep again?"

The middle child snorted. "Yeah, well he shouldn't have hit on Tonks. I regret nothing!"

Ok, so his revenge had been a double edged sword. But it still hurt them more than him, and besides. He still feared his old drill sergeant more than his baby sister. Right until the point when she whacked him with a rolling pin.

"Argghhh, are you insane Woman?" He managed to avoid the second swing and began to wrestle with the smaller but quite vicious mother for the kitchen utensil turned club.

Tonks watched in mild amusement from her seat on the other side of the kitchen island, cradling a mug of tea Mrs. Wolf had made for her, glad she was an only child. She could see that lump on her lovers head from here!

"So kids, how are things going over in England?"

Pete had eased himself into the remaining seat, Sunday newspaper tucked under his arm. The man was a junkie for news. Two hours in front of the box every evening, and another half rereading the same information the next morning in the paper.

Carson knew he was hinting at something. Probably the increasing amount of muggles that got sucked into the Wizards war.

"Oh you know, not good, not bad." Carson shrugged. "The school is kinda isolated, so I don't really know what the word on the street is.

"Hmm" Pete acknowledged, smelling the BS. "But Tonks here does. Have you been busy with the recent string of deaths?"

The Auror choked on her Tea. "Oh no, I'm afraid I'm not familiar with those cases Mr. Wolf. You see I specialize in Traffic Policing."

Next to her Carson snorted into his cup of Joe, diverting the attention to him.

"Sorry"

Pete though couldn't help but dig further. Blame it on his job as an investigator for the Bureau.

"You know, thinking about it some more I do recall an article last week about a girl with pink hair being sought for questioning by your colleges. She was seen down in Florida a few months back.

…

"Oh, that's a new fashion trend in London right now. Tons of girls run around looking like me." She retorted with a nervous laugh. "Right Carson?"

"Hmmm? Oh. Yeah dad, you'd think she sticks out over there, but I have a hard time picking her out from the crowd. Crazy Brits."

She elbowed him in the side.

"Pete, would you stop grilling the girl like that!" Carmel shouted from the kitchen. "How many times have I told you to leave that side of you at work?"

Pete grumbled, finally ending the interrogation when he opened the paper.

They departed after breakfast with a promise to visit more often. He was loading the bags into the car when his Father approached.

"Hey kid, sorry about putting you two on the spot like that."

Carson pushed the second suitcase in with a grunt. "No problem pop. I'm sure she'll get used to it eventually. Who knows, maybe I can teach her my poker face. God knows I gave you the slip enough as a kid with it. Must be gettin' old eh?" he playfully punched the middle aged man on the shoulder.

Pete barked a short laugh. "Carson, I knew damn well when you were hiding something. Half the time it just wasn't worth grounding you. After all, if you're stuck in your room all year I'd be considered child neglect."

This time it was Carson's turn to laugh. Pete's smile lingered for another second before he turned serious again.

"Listen son, let me know if you get into any trouble, ok? Your mom worries, and a few letters a year doesn't really cut it."

He pulled his second son into a hug.

"Yeah pop, sure. Sorry about that by the way. I'll promise to phone and write more."

"Good to hear." Pete patted him on the back. After a quick hug from Tonks the pair pulled out of the driveway.

Pete Wolf watched as they drove off, putting his hand around Carmel's shoulder.

'Something was off about that girl,' he thought with a frown. He made a mental note to look her up when he got into the office tomorrow. Having only one name to go off of wouldn't help the matter, but cemented the idea that she was hiding something.

oOo

 **#12 Grimmauld Place, London July 26th, 1997**

Grimmauld Place was packed that evening for the Order meeting. The hot topic of the week was of course the extraction of Harry Potter, whose blood protection wards were about to expire. Why no one had considered moving the kid a month ago was beyond him. After all, keeping the VIP there until the last second maximized the chances the enemy could plan and execute a successful ambush.

Moody knew this, but insisted that it was Dumbledore's last wish to keep young Harry there as long as possible. Frustrated and angry, Carson had retreated back to the library and dove into a recently published history book about the asset until the meeting started.

He'd already surmised just how much the kid had been crapped on by life in general. An orphan at age one, slave like childhood at the hands of an abusive Aunt and Uncle(according to the order members that guarded the place), and the number one target for this lunatic Voldemort, who had somehow brought himself back from the dead three years ago. And they'd get him out of that house on 27th, just two days before his 17th birthday.

Mundungus actually came up with a great idea to disguise Harry's protection detail with Polyjuice. They would then make their way via broom to the designated safe house. As the meeting concluded however, Carson pulled Tonks aside. Moody had liked the idea.

Carson didn't.

Hell, side along apparition and port key travel sounded a million times better than a dozen or more slow moving flying targets! But again his concerns fell on deaf ears. So Carson went to the one person he could trust.

"Hey, I need to talk to you about tomorrow."

"Yeah? What about? "She asked.

"Something feels off. I know I haven't known this Mundungus guy very long but he doesn't come across as being the sharpest tool in the shed if you catch my drift. For him to suggest something so complex…" He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "It just doesn't chive."

Tonks frowned. "You think they got to him?"

Carson shrugged. "It's possible. If so you'd be walking into a trap." He wasn't happy about talking about one of their own like this, even if the guy looked only a step or two up from a street bum.

"So what should we do then? Scrub the mission? We still need to figure out how to get Harry away safely." He looked around before leading her to the library.

"Can you throw up some privacy charms?" he asked after shutting the door. She nodded, waiving her wand and mumbling incoherently. Their brainstorming session lasted until well into the night.

oOo

Carson found Mad Eye the next the next morning and informed him of Tonks' sudden lapse in health. The one-legged Auror wasted no time hobbling up to their bedroom to see his former subordinate looking rather green around the gills. It took all of her Metamorphic abilities to fool the old man's freaky spinning eye, but after consulting with Arthur and Kingsley they pulled her from tonight's mission in favor of Hestia Jones.

For much of the day she remained under the covers, at least as long as the scarred Auror was in the house. Late that afternoon, while Moody was busy acquiring some tamper free brooms the hooky playing Metamorph snuck out and apparated to Privet drive.

Around the same time Carson took his leave as well, telling everyone he'd meet them at the Tonks's that night and wishing everyone good luck. This would be the last time they'd use the Black residence as Headquarters, and the pairs belongings were securely tucked away in the trunk of the car. With Snape's betrayal all of their pervious safe houses were compromised. He sure as hell wouldn't miss it.

Carson drove off, relishing the feel of the cool evening air. He'd been cooped up in the Townhouse for the last month. Tonks had taken his vow to sit back and study seriously, though he didn't know how cramming would save his bacon in actual combat. Instead he'd begun to get in touch with old squad mates, making a list of potentials for a guerrilla style strike force. For now though he enjoyed driving on the nearly empty streets. It would be an hour to get to Surrey even with the light traffic, and he'd have to make a pit stop along the way as well.

oOo

 **#4 Privet Drive, Surrey July 27th, 1997**

She opened the front door with a muffled click of her wand and slipped inside. The house was dark, its occupants in all likelihood asleep. Silencing charms muffled her clumsy feet on the far too creaky to be normal stairs. Seriously, muggles must build them loud just to hear any potential burglars, Tonks thought with a wince.

She rounded the upstairs hallway corner and saw a thin beam of light under the last bedroom door. Seemed little Harry was burning the midnight oil. The young witch slipped through his bedroom door to find him reading a book. Not the kind she'd expected a teenager to read in the middle of the night, but then again Harry always was a bit of a prude.

"Worcher big guy!" It was amusing seeing a human being leap in the air whilst lying flat on a bed. 'Perhaps the kid wasn't past doing accidental magic just yet'

"Merlin Tonks, don't scare me like that!" He hissed.

"Tsk,tsk", she teased back playfully. "Always so uptight about everything."

She produced a set of cloths from a duffel and threw them on his bed.

"Put these on Harry. And I'll need yours."

She wasted no time shedding her coat and stuffing it into the magically expanded pouch.

"Umm, Tonks, mind explaining what's going on? Why do you want me to wear that?"

She transfigured some of his dirty laundry into a privacy screen and threw more of her cloths over it. "No time to explain kid, just do it. Oh, and pull out your invisibility cloak. You'll need it."

Complying though still not knowing why, he stripped and put on what she'd brought along, then tossed his clothes over the screen.

Finally dressed, she began talking. "All right, in about 15 minutes the Order will show up to take you to safety. They'll use polyjuice to make themselves into decoys of you in case the Dark Lord tries to pull something funny."

Harry began to protest that he didn't want them to risk themselves for his sake, but she cut him short.

"Except you won't be going. I will. She plucked a hair from his head and placed it in a vile of the mudlike potion, causing it to fizz."

"You remember Professor Wolf, right?"

"Yeah, the muggle studies professor right? Why do you ask?" Harry was becoming slightly concerned.

"You're going to put on your cloak and walk out of here in the next minute or so. Go to the end of the street, hang a left, and wait at the nearby gas station till you see a black car with a pizza sign on the roof. When he's pumping gas get in the passenger seat."

With those final instructions, she knocked back the vial potion and began to change. The Metamorph could have used her abilities, but Moody would have seen right through her. It's also why Harry needed to leave right now. That damn eye can see through his cloak like it wasn't even there.

The 'new' Harry Potter shoo'd out the original, who did as he was told and began to walk down the deserted street, wand at the ready. The whole situation had come up so quick he didn't even have time to be mad.

As expected Harry found a black car parked at the pump, and the Professor in a ridiculous Domino's Pizza uniform, hat and all, whistling a tune while pumping petrol. The stations attendant was watching him like a hawk now, no doubt looking down at the pump information and watching as the weird pizza driver was squeezing a pence's worth of fuel into the BMW's tank every ten seconds.

The passenger door was open, and the second Harry sat down Carson replaced the pump and hoped in as well. In reality he'd finished filling up minutes ago.

Damn kid was late!

"Don't take the cloak off Harry" Carson calmly stated while putting on his seatbelt. "Better safe than sorry right?" The car rumbled to life and pulled away, heading west towards Bristol.

About five minutes later he could see bright lights in the sky over head. Black wisps of smoke snaked and weaved around the oblivious motorists traveling on the Motorway. Thankfully they were well away from the action, though the resulting traffic jam was not part of the plan. He opted to take the side roads after looking over the large map, occasionally getting input from his invisible friend. Both were anxious to get to the rendezvous point. Hopefully everyone was all right.

oOo

The plan went to hell shortly after takeoff. They were attacked by what she estimated where no less than thirty death eaters. She and Hagrid had made it to the safe house just as Sirius's old motorbike finally gave up. The Tonks's were quick to hide the bike and usher its occupants inside. Remus entered shortly after with a wounded George in tow and immediately pressed her into the wall, wand in her face.

"What creature sat in the corner the first time Harry Potter visited my Office in Hogwarts." He bellowed. Of all the times to ask those ridiculous questions!

Tonks was screwed. She haven't the faintest idea. Instead she tried deflecting the question, calling him 'balmy' and 'mad'. When that didn't work she was forced to morph into her normal appearance or risk eating a stunner.

Lupin backed off, shocked. "Tonks?"

She looked down, kicking nonexistent pebbles with her foot.

"Hi Remus."

"What have you done!" Lupin hollered. "Where is Harry?"

"It's ok!" Tonks tried to assure them. "We enacted a contingency plan. Harry's on his way here. No one knows who he's traveling with!"

Remus sunk down on the Tonks's living room couch, hands cradling his head. No one spoke to her. Over the next half hour more and more of the protection detail trickled in, all with some sort of injury or another. George had sustained a nasty dark wound to his ear that couldn't be healed by magic. He looked grim, though probably because now everyone would be able to tell the twins apart.

Bill arrived last with the news that Mad Eye had been killed. Dung had apparated when the going got rough, leaving the grisly Auror's back open to attack. Carson had been right, Tonks thought with a grimace. Mundungus had betrayed them.

The mood in the house was downcast. Moody had been the backbone of the Order since Dumbledore's death. They were losing members at an alarming rate.

The faint rumble of a car engine brought everyone outside. A dozen wands were levelled at the seemingly sole occupant, and Carson didn't even bother pointing a gun back.

"Anyone order pizza? It's a little cold, but nothing one of your warming charms can't fix, right?"

Harry emerged from his cloak and was greeted by Molly, who guided him inside. The young muggle meanwhile was on the receiving end from a very irritable Werewolf. Tonks defended him relentlessly, and ultimately no one could argue that indeed he had been right. Somehow the Death eaters had known exactly when to strike.

After some basic first aid and a large platter of sandwiches the group port keyed to the Burrow. Carson left the car with the Tonks's, having tossed Teddy the keys and telling him to feel free to use it. He didn't think it would be needed for the next while anyway, not when his Girlfriend could teleport him around, nasty though that feeling was.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9**

 **A/N: Hey peeps, first of all thank you to all those who reviewed. It made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Or perhaps it was the liquor ;/**

 **updating once a week and staying on top work has been stretching me to the limit in the last two weeks. I estimate work will taper down by the beginning of sept. so updates might only be every two weeks for the next month. That is all.**

 **The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon July 28th, 1997**

Despite the tragic death of Alastor Moody the previous day, the Burrow emulated a freshly kicked over ant hill prior to Bills much anticipated wedding. Even the poor muggle was put to work de-gnoming the lawn with the twins, Ron and Harry.

"What the hell are these things!" the poor sheltered American yelled in a panicked voice whilst attempting to shake one of the vicious creatures from his leg while simultaneously holding another one through some very thick gloves. The latter was laughing at him hysterically. So were the rest of the burrow's residents.

They thought it was hilarious to see the rookie muggle deal with something as mundane as garden gnomes. Carson finally managed to shake the small creature from his now destroyed cargo pants and kicked it savagely over the fence. Seeing its fellow gnome treated so poorly, the one held in the glove wriggled free and bit the momentarily triumphant looking human in the arm.

With a yell the second gnome joined the first, only for three more to take their place. After 5 minutes of this he stormed off into Arthur's shed, only to re-emerge with a can of WD-40 , a blowtorch and a half crazed grin on his face.

The twins were taking notes. Harry and Ron unconsciously backed up a few steps.

After emptying the fiery contents of the can into one of the excavated holes dozens of the strange creatures flooded out of various other mounds around the yard and swarmed the Wizards. Apparently this was not how de-gnoming normally worked, and the creatures were making their disapproval abundantly clear.

Carson made no move to help the heavily outnumbered magicals, opting instead to watch from the sidelines as his revenge unfolded.

The few gnomes that made their way to the pyromaniac Professor were torched and dispatched with a frying pan he'd procured from the kitchen earlier. Arthur came out to praise him from an ingenious use of muggle materials, which earned him glares from the Ron and _'the boy who was gnawed on'_.

The twins bowed in respect, jovially repeating _'well played mate'_ over and over again. After all, they'd just deflected most of their gnomes to ickle Ronnie and Harrykins.

Tonks and the other girls were in the kitchen watching the scene unfold with great amusement, though occasionally winced when a gnome found itself on the receiving end of the Professor's frying pan. They almost felt bad for the creatures. Almost.

"Soooo Tonks…" Ginny casually started after managing to finally rip her eyes from the Shirtless men waging garden warfare outside. The Auror suppressed a smirk at what would no doubt be another attempt to pump her for juicy details on her relationship with the pan wielding guy outside.

"Yes Gin?" she decided to play along. It had been quite a while since she'd talked about boys anyway, and besides even Molly approved of their relationship, despite still holding onto the hope that her Charlie would come back from Romania to marry the eccentric girl. She snorted at the thought of Charlie and her as an item.

"How does he compare to a Wizard? You know, in the sack." The redhead bluntly asked.

"Ginny!" Hermione squeaked in mock protest before turning the same shade of red as her friend's hair. Everyone knew that if Hermione really didn't like where a conversation was going she would just leave. The fact that she'd been 'drying' the same glass for the last half minute, giving herself away in the process.

Tonks laughed. "Why Ginevra," Tonks addressed the young girl using her full name, causing her to cringe."I didn't think you'd be interested in those sorts of activities already? Perhaps it's time Molly gave you THE TALK." The last words were louder than the rest, and Ginny paled, which was quite impressive for someone with such a fair complexion.

"Forget I asked", she blurted before turning back to her task of cubing potatoes.

Dinner was delicious as always, and not being forced to scrub dishes was also something he could get used to. While the dishes cleaned themselves, the large group retired to the living room. The evening was spent talking and playing various games. Around eleven people started to turn in for the night, prompting the pair to get their coats and head home.

With an almost full house bedrooms were scarce, and he'd much rather spend the night with the cute Witch rather than someone with Red hair. Unfortunately Molly insisted they stay, and the only room big enough for another person was with her two eldest. After twenty minutes of trying and failing to catch some shuteye Carson snuck out to find his Auror and file a noise complaint. A knock on the adjacent door revealed a slender and curvy redhead.

"Professor?"

"Ginny" Carson replied politely.

"I have a proposition for you." He began.

20 minutes later…

 _ **Bang Bang Bang**_ _._

"Carson! Nymphedora! I know you're in there. You have one minute before this door comes down, one way or another. Get yourselves outside this instant!" The shrill voice of Molly Weasley boomed through the door like it wasn't even there. He briefly wondered if it was magically amplified. Probably not…

"Oh shit", he grunted trying to get himself untangled from his Green haired Girlfriend. "It's the wicked Witch of the West. Run for the hills Tonks! I'll buy you some time. Remember me, and tell my folks I love them."

She giggled and gave him a chaste kiss. "This is my room silly. I'll hold off Molly, you just make sure you look decent." He flopped around on the bed struggling to put on his pants, while Tonks was equally busy buttoning up her shirt, not realizing they were all off by one.

Semi presentable she opened the door, while he pretended to lounge on the bed reading a book.

It was upside down.

"Why hello Mrs. Weasley. What can we do for you?" Carson's emotions swung back and forth between amusement and terror.

Their ruse didn't work as the motherly Weasley Matriach put her hands on her hips.

" _You two",_ she pointed with her index and middle finger. _"_ Outside, right now!"

"Shit", Carson swore. "I haven't been busted since that time at the Hospital in tenth grade."

"You did it in a Hospital? You dog!" Tonks playfully swatted him, causing him to grunt.

Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat before he could reply. "I found Ginevra sleeping on the couch. She told me that you'd forge her grade in Muggle Studies if she slept there tonight."

He swore there was static crackling from her red hair, and it made him take a step backwards.

"You two may be an item, but as long as you stay under this roof there will be no fornicating unless you're properly married. What do you have to say for yourself?"

'Fornicating', Carson mouthed silently. 'There's your word of the day.' Recognizing the look he was getting from the older woman he got to it.

"Well ma'am", he rubbed his neck awkwardly, eyes never leaving the floor.

"Umm with the wedding tomorrow and all, I decided to remove myself from the excessive noise emanating from the room you so graciously allowed me to bunk in for the night." Tonks bit the inside of her cheek trying to keep a straight face.

"Wouldn't want to keel over from exhaustion tomorrow after all, right?"

Playing the hapless muggle card didn't seem to fly tonight it seemed as she pointed towards the far door, not even bothering with using her words. Bill and Charlie hadn't woken up despite the noise, and the door was practically shaking in its frame for the snores.

With a pleading look Carson kissed Tonks good night and trotted off to the hellhole of chain-saws. He didn't have the luxury of silencing spells, and suffocating the Groom and his brother didn't seem like a reasonable option. Perhaps he'd crash on the couch instead.

oOo

 **The Burrow front lawn, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon July 28th, 1997**

Tonks found her poor Muggle boyfriend cocooned in a sleeping bag on the lawn the next morning covered in dew. It seemed the bedrooms had sound dampening spells on them. Oddly enough Mrs. Wesley's voice could defeat even the most advanced charms placed on the room.

Before being deposited back in her room Ginny had been sleeping on the couch with a silencing charm. Only problem was that it was placed on herself and not the couch, so sleeping in any part of the house still meant he heard everything in excruciating volume. The gnomes had thankfully kept their distance from the evil new Burrow resident, lest they incur his special blend of insanity/wrath once more.

She couldn't help but laugh as she dragged him to the kitchen table. Carson didn't appreciate being the source of her entertainment, but the Witch quickly redeemed herself when a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of him. With an inappropriately long and slobbery sounding slurp he drained most of the cup, despite the temperature or perhaps because of it.

The twins arrived first, followed by a happy looking Charlie and Bill. The mug cradling muggle shot them death glares as they sat down. Harry and Ginny arrived next and strained the already large table beyond its maximum seating capacity. Carson briefly wondered if it was a coincidence that they'd come down together. He reasoned it wasn't, but was still debating whether to throw the two youngsters under the bus when Molly finally came downstairs.

"Good Morning my little dears!"

She sounded far too happy if you asked him, but thankfully no one did. God he was a prick in the morning. A series of halfhearted grunts and affirmatives were the response from the table, with the exception of Bill, who stood up to kiss his mother on the cheek.

"Oh Bill, I can't believe you're getting married today." Her cheerful demeanor morphed into one of…well he wasn't sure. Probably sadness that her son was finally tying the knot and would be another woman's, though from what he gathered Bill hadn't lived at the Burrow in almost ten years.

Probably menopause. Wait, could Witches get that condition? The thought of an emotional Woman that could literary turn you into a toad scared him more than Saddam's rumored torture chambers. The small shudder went unnoticed by all while the oldest Weasley guided his hysterical mother to the living room.

The rest of the table shot slightly concerned looks at each other. Hopefully she'd get it out of her system by the time the ceremony started.

Ron, Hermione (again a pair who showed up entirely to close together if you asked him) and Arthur found their way downstairs a few minutes later. There seemed to be a very blatant double standard happening under this roof. That or the middle aged witch simply thought that her kids were all saints.

With a snort he finished his cup of coffee. After collecting herself Molly whipped up a massive breakfast that would put the Hogwarts feast to shame. The bacon was a favorite for everyone, and soon conflicts arose over plate stealing and Ron just being…well Ron.

Then she assigned _to do lists_. Fleur and her family would be here around noon, and Bill would have to be kept away from the house. The Weasley Matriarch was a sucker for traditions.

The white tent went up first, then the tables were brought out of the shed. Followed by the chairs. The list went on and on. Molly brought out a large platter of sandwiches shortly before lunch. By then only some minor things remained. One by one the boys left to shower and change. By the time he was done the soon to be new in-laws had arrived. He hadn't seen Fleur since the whole Hogwarts fiasco, but she looked happy and that was good he supposed. Fortunately she wasn't doing her thing and he could actually focus on something other than her.

The ceremony was great. Tonks blew through a whole box of conjured tissues, but that was nothing compared to Mrs. Weasleys three. Dinner too was absolutely fantastic. The witches had outdone themselves with the food.

Carson was having an _'interesting'_ conversation with one Xenophilius Lovegood, the editor of a lesser known paper called the Quibbler when a bright light zoomed into the main tent. All conversation ceased.

"The ministry has fallen" it began. Faint screaming could be heard past the echo like voice. The sounds emanating from the white ball made his skin crawl. _"_ The minister of magic… is dead"

People began to look around nervously. The voice that sounded like Kingsley Shacklebolt finished with a whisper; "They are coming."

'Oh way to go Shack, go ahead and scare everyone with your flashlight around a campfire spiel!' the muggle couldn't help but think. Unfortunately it proved to be a legit warning.

Uneasy chatter and people frantically gathering their belongings followed. Carson moved through the crowd quickly, looking near the last place he'd seen her. Her eyes met his as the first cracks of apparation sounded. In a flash a half dozen Death Eaters had managed to crash to Weasley-Delacour wedding reception, sowing chaos and wreaking havoc.

He saw one of them appear right behind Remus and Arthur, who were in the process of drawing their own wands. Perception of events slowed for him then. His senses became hyper aware. The safety clicked off even as the pistol rose. He always kept a round chambered, so pulling back the slide was unnecessary. The weight of the loaded Beretta felt reassuring. His breath slowed, then stopped mid exhale. The index finger moved from the edge of the guard to rest directly on the trigger.

Previously loud background noises reaching his ears faded. The amount of pressure required to discharge the weapon was in line with the previous tens of thousands of times done so previously. All of this accumulated in a perfectly placed 9mm hollow point slug entering the center of the death eaters mask, traveling only centimeters past the head of an as of yet unsuspecting Werewolf.

Lupin reacted entirely on instinct, first realizing Carson had pointed his weapon at him and in turn pointing his wand at the young man before catching the scent of blood from behind him. The masked terrorist by then was nothing more than a useless pile of flesh on the ground.

His reason for using the more frowned upon hollow tipped bullets was simple. They put down bad guys faster and punched harder than their Full Metal Jacketed cousins. At also wouldn't do to hit someone behind the target.

The oddly shaped projectiles mushroomed and broke upon entering the body, dumping all their energy within a few inches of impact. No chance of collateral damage as long as your aim was true. He'd purchased them during his visit stateside after the failed Werewolf hit.

Within seconds the tent was engulfed. Killing curses found targets as the party goers desperately tried to defend themselves. Carson took aim at a particularly stupid death eater who'd climbed a table to curse people. Three rounds to the chest put him down, but drew the attention of two others.

Champagne glasses and plates exploded from the poorly aimed spell fire. He felled the guy on the left, but his partner managed to slip behind a group of panicked guests. Carson swore and backpedaled. It was a bad idea to remain in the middle of the tent. He could get a curse to the back and never even know it. Several of the more competent Wizards and Witches had begun dueling the still increasing number of opponents. Two shots ended two fights in a rather unfair way by shooting one in the knee and the other in the back of the head.

Tonks had been by the punch bowl when the warning arrived. She caught a brief glimpse of her boyfriend just before the Death eaters had shown up. Now her back was to Molly and Ginny Weasley, forming a defensive triangle of sorts. She could see Bill dueling two Death Eaters. The loud bangs from Carson's pistol also still rung out occasionally, which was very distinct from the dozens of disapparition cracks.

The guests were now either all gone or dead on the floor. The only ones left were Order members or the immediate Weasley family. The two dozen or so friendly fighters slowly consolidated into larger groups. They were outnumbered, but as of yet there were no anti apparition wards up.

Fred and George grabbed Ginny and Molly and disapparated. Bill and Fleur followed shortly after. Arthur yanked an ever more embattled Charlie and popped away as well. Seeing his allies rapidly retreating, the gun toting American bolted for his ride. Yelling 'GO!', he practically tackled her behind an upturned table, narrowly avoiding a cutting curse that tore through the fabric behind them.

The pair was squeezed through a pin sized hole and spat back out in front of Ted and Andromeda's house. They remained there for a few seconds, both relieved to hear the others labored breathing rather than nothing at all. It was pitch black out, but the lights were still on inside. After brushing the loose dirt from their clothes Tonks and Carson opened the front door. Several of the redheads were already present.

"Hey Nym, why couldn't you just teleport us inside, like I dunno, specifically onto the couch" the tuxido clad muggle complained to the Metamorph as they strolled into the living room. Tonks slapped his shoulder and called him a brat. She was probably right, this wasn't a good time to joke.

Bill and Fleur sent a messenger Patronus saying they had retreated to shell cottage. That accounted for all of the sizable Weasley family except for Ron, who was last seen doing a triple apparition with both Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Knowing the trio made it out reassured Molly, but the fact that they haven't checked in started to eat at her soon thereafter.

Kingley arrived sometime later looking a little worse for wear, his robes torn and singed in more than a few places.

"Shack! Good to see you in one piece mate."

The dark skinned Auror nodded in appreciation.

"I take it the warning arrived in time?"

"For the most part." answered a hunched over Charlie. Andromeda was using tweezers to remove glass shards from the Dragon handlers back. He'd been comically thrown through a pyramid of champagne glasses with a banisher just before Arthur grabbed him.

"So this is it then?" Fred asked. "We've lost. The ministry. It's gone."

Kingsley looked grim. "Yes, Scrimgeour and his protection detail were unable to escape. Most were killed, but some switched sides to save their hides when the time came."

"Those rotten traitors!" Tonks growled, disgusted that any Auror would turn their wand against the Minister of Magic.

The until now fairly quiet muggle was assessing the situation. They looked broken. Leaderless. Dumbledore had led these people so completely that now they ceased to function efficiently without leadership. Moody had possessed the training and the experience to at least somewhat fill the old man's shoes.

Shit, even the jarheads could function without officers around. The army expected them to do so even when separated from the chain of command. But this was different. It was like asking NCO's to draw up war plans, for something akin to broad theater action. Tactically any sergeant can formulate a plan of attack to say, clear a house, or secure a certain objective. But others always figured out why that objective needed attention.

Voldemort is smart. He has a plan. All they had was a few dozen wands and his sorry ass.

Carson rose, looking around at the assembled group. They needed leadership. He had the skills, but not nearly enough of the required background knowledge. But would he need to? After all, the Wizards had never fought the modern muggle way, had they?

Well, as his instructor liked to say, you had to learn to walk before you could run.

"We can use those Aurors. If they turned once there's a good chance they'll do so again."

"How?" Remus asked skeptically. "Waltz into the Ministry corner them?"

Carson snorted at the cheeky remark. "Not quite."

"Kingley, please find out who these guys are and where they live. We also need to know their schedules."

Carson deliberately asked in an effort to not alienate the man with what would otherwise sound like an order. The Ex-Auror looked around the room for guidance, and after finding nodded and cracked away.

"What do you have planned Professor Wolf?" Minerva asked cautiously.

"It's just a rough plan now, but the idea was used quite well by the Iraqis in the war. Saddam somehow found out who was working for us in Baghdad, but instead of rounding them up and pointing them at a wall the Mukhābarāt arrested the informant's families, thus forcing them to co-operate and feed the coalition false information on strategic targets.

It's part of the reason why the civilian casualties during the bombing campaign were so high. High command believed the bunkers under the city to be used by the Iraqi army. Of course TV crews were on site minutes later and broadcasting live around the globe. Ultimately it influenced things enough for us to stay out of Baghdad."

'God knows how an occupation in that hellhole would have turned out.' Carson thought with a shudder. Even now Saddam has a pretty tight lid on all the ethnic tension simmering within that country's population.

"And you intend to kidnap the Aurors families and use them as a bargaining chip? That's quite the strategy Mr. Wolf", the Headmistress chided with distaste. "How would we be any better if we retorted to such unsavory methods?"

Carson crossed his arms. He knew it would be a tough sell for some people.

"Well, for one we don't torture them. Also, I don't intend to keep dozens of people confined for any longer than a few days. The turned agents will serve a purpose. That's what we need to discuss in the coming days. Where can we strike Voldemort the most effectively? I don't really know, but you people do."

He looked at each and everyone present.

"Let's face it people, we are no longer fighting an insurgency here. They toppled the government and will most likely install a puppet leader. If Voldemort publicly announced that he'd taken over there'd be a response from the international magical community, be it sanctions, freezing funds, or quite possibly even military intervention. Ideally that's what we want, but shy of hijacking the Prophet and announcing; Voldemort new Minister of Magic' that won't happen."

He shook his finger, continuing to brainstorm. "No, I say we wait to see how the Aurors integrate and where they can go without arousing suspicion. If we can bag some of Voldemort's top lieutenants or plant a bomb at known Death Eater gatherings we can ruin his day pretty darn well."

For the next few hours everything from a new secure headquarters to Death Eater hierarchy was discussed.

Carson had succeeded in focusing the practically leaderless group's energy into achieving an objective, and ultimately prevented them from fracturing.

The next day a sizable group of Order members and other light wizards port keyed and apparated back to the Burrow, wands drawn. There was no need. The property was abandoned. A blackened spot and some charred debris was all that was left of the large tent. The bodies thankfully were gone. Most surprising of all the Burrow it-self was left untouched. Over the next few weeks search parties were sent to look for the missing teens with no luck.

oOo

 **Tonks Family Home, England September 1st , 1997**

' **Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and wizardry, was today appointed Headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. "I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest Wizarding traditions and values'**

She slammed the paper down on her parents kitchen table, then looked over at her Boyfriend, who was busy eating a bowl of Cheeri Owls, the magical equivalent to Cherrios. What made them magical was anyone's guess.

"Whah?"he asked between chews. Tonks slid the paper over towards him, still fuming. He skimmed over the article. He almost snorted at the 'resigned' part. He was practically a fugitive.

"The Carrows. Who are they?"

"Only the most sadistic and brutal siblings after the Lestranges. I know things have gotten bad, but damn this is ludicrous. Imagine what that bitch is going to do to your students."

Carson paused, another spoonful halfway to his mouth. "I suppose they'd opt to drop out of the class. It is an elective after all." On the surface he acted aloof, but inside he was as worried as Tonks sounded. What he didn't know was that muggle studies was now mandatory, and basically a propaganda tool for the new government. McGonagall specifically hadn't informed them out of fear that the trigger-happy muggle would walk into the school to confront the evil Carrow woman.

"So what, you wanna go pay these two a visit?" He suggested when she didn't reply. After what happened at their old apartment and the Wedding the rules of engagement had shifted a smidgens. If he saw a Death Eater it was shoot to kill, unless the Order needed one to interrogate. In that case he was happy to help out as well. They didn't need knee caps to talk after all.

She shook her strawberry pink hair. "No, we need to stay low. With the ministry under their control, we can't risk being seen in public."

He finished his bowl with a loud slurp, and she laughed at the milk mustache he'd acquired as a result.

"All right, with both of us now officially unemployed and freeloading in your parents' house what do you think we should do?"

Tonks tapped her finger on her chin thoughtfully. "Well, with all this spare time I can think of a few things we could do that both of us would enjoy."

"Why Miss Tonks, how naughty of you."

She slipped from her chair and onto his lap just as Hestia and Shacklebolt walked in. The brunette witch gave her a big grin while the taller ex Auror shook his head _._

The immature couple took that as a sign to move things upstairs. Shacklebolt and Jones left shortly after, having talked to Ted and Andy about something. Neither were too worried about what. If it was Order related, they'd be called down.

Carson was just moving past second base when the first perimeter wards started to wail. With a loud protest of; "C'mon!" they hastily got dressed. Several figures were waiting on the grounds outside the house he observed. Carson wasted no time pulling Ted's ancient 8 gauge double barrel from above the china cabinet. The thing kicked like a mule if you made the mistake of pulling both triggers, as he found out a week ago in a nearby field. Damn shoulder was still a bit tender.

"Where are they? We know you've been in contact with the fugitives."

A well-dressed man demanded. The pair took up position in the Foyer, able to hear the demands loud and clear through now ajar door.

"Tell us what we want to know or else." The man doing the talking raised his wand at Ted and Andromeda. It seemed he didn't even give them the option to co-operate. The Cruciatus curse was short, but hearing Tonks' dad agonized screams, the youngest member of the Family stormed out of the house guns blazing (figuratively) followed shortly thereafter by Carson.

The guy who'd cast the unforgivable was hit in the leg and head by a pair of overpowered bludgeoning curses. His protection detail was reduced by two before they could react to their charge being assaulted. Carson ducked behind a chest high stone wall for cover, choosing random spots to pop up, fire, and generally lure the trigger happy Wizards away from the Tonks's.

The Aurors (if that's what you could call them) cast overlapping magical shields while firing reductos through the smallest of gaps they left for their wand tips.

Carson was quickly forced to disengage, the dry stacked stone wall around him exploding rather dangerously as the remaining wizards rallied. Tonks meanwhile had managed to get in front of her parents. Andy joined her and the mother-daughter team was quickly ripping through the remaining three hostiles. Their muggle compadre' had done a marvelous job getting the wizards attention, leaving only one to deal with the two fully trained and somewhat aggravated witches.

After all was said and done 5 of the red and brown coats were dead, along with a midlevel ministry official they didn't recognize. Perhaps even a death eater. Pulling up his sleeves did reveal the mark, and two of his detail carried them as well.

They helped Ted to his feet and re-entered the house. Carson was frantically packing things. He asked Andy to do the same for Ted. In the living room the middle aged wizard sat on the couch, nerve endings still buzzing randomly. Tonks tended to him, trying to remain calm but failing utterly.

They'd just killed several official members of the ministry, including some of her co-workers. Though she recognized none of them, meaning her old colleagues were probably no longer there as well.

"Carson, what are you doing?"

"I'll explain in a minute!" He hauled the heavy trunk outside and shoved it in the Biemers trunk. Teds followed shortly after. He ignored the dead bodies outside.

"The ministry knows this group was sent here. If we simply make them disappear we all go to Azkaban, if we're lucky."

They nodded, agreeing with his observation and likely outcome. "Ted is muggle born, and I'm a muggle. They'll prosecute us sooner or later. So what we'll do is go on the run while you two stay here."

"No!" Tonks immediately shouted. Carson squeezed her hand, but she pulled away.

He sighed. "Tell them we killed the ministry employee and his guard. It'll look as though we kept you here against your will. That we reacted when you told the official to help you."

Tears were now freely falling from his girlfriend's eyes. He hugged her tightly. "It'll only be temporary. I promise." Carson produced a handheld mirror and handed it over. "I read about these a few months back, and picked them up last time we went to Diagon. Call me tonight ok? I love you so much."

Tonks felt his lips press against hers, then her forehead. Before she could say another word Carson guided her Dad to the car. They took off, heading towards Bristol. Hopefully the new ministry wouldn't look too actively outside of London.

Andromeda guided her only Daughter back into the house.

"Nymphedora dear, start casting cleaning charms. If they check our wands we need to be prepared."

After casting a half dozen _Scourgify's_ and self-animating scrubbing charms she sent a messenger patronus to the DMLE.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10**

 **Port District Avonmouth, City of Bristol, England October 27th, 1997**

After the fiasco at the Tonks's the Order had officially gone into hiding. Andy remained at the House with Nymphedora. Her pureblood status gave her immunity from the authorities, and to a lesser extent Tonks. The Aurors, though suspicious had nothing on the two Women.

Unfortunately the same could not be said for Ted and Carson. The impromptu four hour road trip had ended in a shady rundown industrial neighborhood near the Severn River estuary on the outskirts of Bristol. There they took up residence in an abandoned warehouse. Ted spent the next two days permanently transfiguring the upper level into something resembling living quarters.

Remus, who was being hunted by the Werewolves and Ministry joined them there a few days later. The place was now protected by a Fidelius Charm, courtesy his former colleague Professor Flitwick. Carson knew they were lucky to have a roof over their heads and warm food, even if it mostly came out of a can or in the form of takeout.

A great many wizards and witches had been forced to run in the days after the coup. Many roamed the country side like gypsies, never staying in one place too long lest the newly formed Snatcher teams caught up with them. The Ministries response had been to recruit the most ruthless and least compassionate individuals from the very bottom of Wizarding Society and given them permission to do their worst. All for the sole purpose of hunting down blood traitors. They numbered in the hundreds, and often killed instead of captured, if you were lucky enough.

The trio gleaned all of this from the occasional visit of Aurthur Weasley, one of the few Phoenixes still active in the Ministry. The man appeared from the rickety old vanishing cabinet in the corner of the former mezamine office space. Its counterpart now resided in the Burrow after Arthur lifted both from evidence storage at the DMLE.

"The ministry has ratcheted up their efforts against the Muggleborns and half-bloods again!" The agitated Wizard stated to the group, who was sitting around a coffee table playing exploding snap. Everyone knew that Arthur was fond of Muggles and in association Muggleborns. Many mocked and sneered at him, often going out of their way to inform him of the next amendment in the law that would befall those of lesser blood status.

"We need to slow them down or there won't be anyone left to fight them soon! " The redhead all but shouted before grabbing an unlabeled bottle of booze and settling in the sole remaining lounger that bore a suspicious resemblance to the one Dumbledore used to sit in back at Hogwarts.

"We could always turn random shit into Port Keys again that all lead to secure bank vaults or 'in session' court rooms" Carson unhelpfully added after his cards spontaneously combusted. "The muggles would go nuts trying to figure out how they got there."

In recent months Carson had started to refer to his own kind as Muggles. A by-product of living around Wizards and Witches for so long he supposed. It just rolled off his tongue now.

Remus's head shot up. "Wait, you're the reason why people don't pick up loose change off the street anymore?"

The prophet had published a ministry news bulletin saying n not to pick up coins off the street. Several people had gone missing, and all but those who supported the Dark lord had returned. Carson grinned sheepishly. It had been the last operation by the Order before they all went into hiding.

"The twins did most of the work, but yeah. They worked for a while, but the bad guys caught on quick. We did bag a few of Voldemort's lieutenants though."

"Malfoy senior never could overlook a galleon laying on the street" Ted added gleefully.

Carson stared into space with a goofy grin, as if recalling a fond memory. "The guy has a muggle phobia. When we weren't interrogating him I went out of my way to tell him random facts about muggles. Some of it must have stuck too, 'cause he complained more when I repeated myself. Oh, and when I told him that his own son had taken _optional_ classes with me he completely lost his shit. It was hilarious!"

Arthur shook his head, wondering if all muggles were so sadistic.

"We finally squeezed him dry and doped him up with one of your fancy brews."

"Draught of living death", Ted piped in before laying down his hand.

Lucy was now hog tied and stuffed into one of the magically enlarged trunks over in the corner.

"Right!", Carson thanked the older man. "You were still out trying to sway the Were's to switch sides, but did no one fill you in on what we were up too?"

The former marauder shook his head. The order had all but disappeared when he'd been chased out of the British werewolves stronghold, and being public enemy number…3? Meant he couldn't exactly waltz around Diagon asking what had happened.

"Hmm. In all seriousness though…" their young Muggle friend continued, slurring somewhat now from all the booze.

"…If you want me to be as effective as you at fighting I'll need some fancy toys."

"What did you have in mind" the Werewolf asked cautiously, not sure that giving the crazy muggle more firepower was the best of ideas.

oOo

 **City of Cardiff, Wales, England October 28th, 1997**

Carson looked at his wristwatch for the 7th time in 5 minutes. Every time he did another vow was made not to look for at least ten minutes and shortly thereafter broken. He'd long since given up on trying to make sense of the words written in the tome he was holding. No, his mind was currently preoccupied mentally rechecking tonight's plan.

Across the dated sitting room that looked far too similar to the Slytherin common room sat his soon to be partners in crime Ted and Remus. Willing himself to be patient for just a few more minutes the nervous muggle flipped a musty smelling page and focused on the ornate and large initial.

They'd left the warehouse two hours ago via car, traveling over Bristol Channel and into the neighboring city of Cardiff. The unlikely group had spent the last hour and a half in Cathays Library, a small white washed stone and mortar building sitting on a well-traveled street corner. The reason for this impromptu library visit lay down the road.

The Maindy Barracks in Cardiff, Wales sat behind an assortment of stone and metal walls, line of sight obstructing hedges, and razor sharp barbed wire fences. It was the closest military facility besides the Ministry of Defense, and Carson doubted they had any of the things he was interested in anyway.

Yes, they were going to burglarize the British Military. Moody would have been so proud.

At 8pm the library doors closed for the night. Considering there wasn't any other public place within two blocks the trio set out. The sun had set half an hour ago, and there was only a navy blue sliver of sky left that didn't illuminate much. It was chilly, but not uncommon for late October. Halloween was fast approaching. The trio wandered into the adjacent cemetery, bundled up in thick wool coats and hats. Once sufficiently away from any streetlights they pulled out three shrunken brooms. Carson had learnt to fly one. He was far from proficient, but it went where he pointed it so good enough he supposed.

A few minutes later they found themselves on a flat roof within the perimeter of the base. The locked door was easily defeated with magic, allowing them entry into the dull looking gray office building. Finding it deserted, they sought out the sole office with lights still lit. The uniformed man sitting behind the desk never noticed when Carson peeked through the wire glass window, nor the whispered incantation of a stunner. They zip tied the slumped over man to his chair and cast a persuasion charm, which was technically a watered down version of an Imperio. Technicalities.

After being invigorated their captive was more than happy to tell the men where to find the Armory. Another stunner and they were off. Unlike the previous building the one housing the munitions was well lit and staffed from the looks of things. Before he could ask his magical accomplices what their plan was to get around all that he felt a cool trickle flow down his head and back, much like a cracking an egg over his head would feel. Ted and Remus were already shapeless transparent blurs by then.

"We cast a disillusionment charm on you," Ted the blur whispered from his right.

"Normally I'd also go with a muggle repelling charm, but that would probably just confuse the living daylights out of you. Stay in the shadows and don't walk in front of anyone."

Carson grunted in annoyance at the idea of being bested by such an easy charm. Hell, it was taught in second year for crying out loud.

They weaved through the maze like hallways, pausing occasionally to let a bored looking guard pass. In the basement two armed guards blocked a very thick looking metal door which in turn protected the goodies they were here for. Two simultaneous stunners downed the former, while another unlocking charm clicked open the thick bars holding the vault like door in place.

They disillusioned the knocked out soldiers and slipped inside. The large room contained racks of green and black rifles. The sight made Carson frown. The Marine Corps went to great lengths familiarizing its members with all sorts of firearms, both from NATO members and the former Warsaw pact states.

Rows and rows of British L85 Pullpup rifles sat neatly in three corridors. During the familiarization classes their example had jammed no less than 8 times. This they learnt was not an uncommon thing for the rifle.

The spent casing would often hit the bolt carrier instead of being spat out the side port. Firing single shots was fine, but cyclic operation all but guaranteed the thing would malfunction.

Simply put the gun was a piece of shit. He ignored them outright, moving towards the back of the room towards the few surplus Belgian made FN FAL's. He picked one of the well-worn rifles from it resting place and inspected it. The design was outdated but had proven itself time and again. These examples had the wooden furniture instead of the fancy space age plastic most military rifles had nowadays.

The heavy hitting 7.62X51 NATO cartridge was almost too powerful for the gun to handle. They'd covered this beast as well, and almost all members of the class loved the older service weapon. It kicked like a mule, and didn't come with a full auto option. There was simply no point. Anything after the third round would hit shit all.

He chose the optical sighted versions of the rifle. There were only five of them, but he'd rather take those 5 than twenty of L85's. Remus and Ted watched the door while he all but looted the back half of the large room. He was delighted to see the Brits had claymores and antipersonnel mines here as well. The charmed pouch Dumbledore had left him became awfully useful in stowing all this heavy gear.

The rifles alone weighted a good 50 pounds, and the 7.62 ammo wasn't exactly light either. The twenty round box magazines were bulky and big. Ideally he'd have preferred the usual 30 but beggars can't be choosers, and with the British ministry of Defense footing the bill who was he to complain. After giving the room another once over and grabbing some tac vests to hold their new toys the unlikely thieves snuck back out of the building. Their 'shopping spree' had gone off without a hitch. Carson was finally as combat effective as his magical peers.

oOo

 **Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire, England November 5nd, 1997**

It was early morning when the trio popped into existence near the official apparition point. Both wizards were skilled enough to do so with the faintest amount of noise. The sun hadn't yet risen, but dawn was fast approaching. Historically it was the ideal time to attack. The sparse light that was beginning to illuminate the sky made the surrounding landscape look gray and cold.

Faint snoring could be heard nearby. Never one to pass up an opportunity for some easy intel, the strike team stunned and transfigured the sleeping sentry into a pinecone. Carson picked the innocent looking object up, and considered throwing it into a pile of identical looking ones nearby. Would he eventually turn back, or is it permanent? The thought of keeping a human disguised as a pinecone fascinated him more than it should have. Eventually he stuffed the thing in an open Velcro pocket on his Tac Vest.

It had taken a week to get solid Intel on their current target. During that week the muggle had toyed with load outs, field stripped and cleaned all of the gear, and burned through a can of fresh sealed ammo in order to familiarize himself with the old L1A1. The rifles had been meticulously cared for and were of course spotless, but like any good soldier maintaining your gear was just became second nature.

It also helped him keep his mind off being away from Tonks. He missed her, and although they talked every night on the mirrors it simply wasn't the same. Her scent, her gentle touch, the endless laughs when she tripped over the umbrella stand. With a shake of his head the lovesick Professor returned to the task at hand.

They knew the rough location of the snatcher camp, and after getting a lay of the land the group identified the well-worn paths in the forest floor connecting the apparition point to the main camp.

With Fall just winding down before Father Winter was due to arrive there was plenty of foliage to cover the anti-personal mines. Luckily it had been a miserably wet two weeks, and the leaves didn't make much noise when stepped on. The trees weren't to densely packed, and more of the metal devices were placed around the main route.

Inconspicuous markers were placed to warn the retreating trio of their little surprises. Nothing obvious, just a visual cue denoting not to walk between two particular trees here and there. That done, they moved up towards the edge of the camp. Observing for a few minutes confirmed the guards were leisurely walking around, looking inward at the semi-permanent structures and tents rather than towards the camp perimeter, where the real danger lay.

After ascertaining that there would be no line of sight conflicts he flipped the safety and selected the first target. It was a dirty looking man with a heavy beard and fingerless gloves. The man wore a far too fancy coat, no doubt taken from one of his victims. It would be a shame to ruin the coat, the ex-marine thought as the pressure on the trigger increased.

With a brutally hard but utterly silent jerk the rifle fired. Carson actually heard the firing pin impact the back of the primer cap with a musical 'ping' thanks to Lupin's permanent silencing charms. The only other noise came from the now rather noisy ejection of the brass being pulled from the barrel chamber and of course the bullet breaking the sound barrier. The latter was a whip like crack that carried perhaps a few dozen feet.

In less than a minute Four bodies spilling crimson life force lay motionless on the. He swapped the still mostly full magazine for a fresh one and waited for the first curious heads to pop out of tents, wondering who was literally cracking the whip so early in the bloody morning.

The beige canvas of the third tent in the second row rippled slightly, giving the hidden sniper time to adjust his aim, and with another muffled crack sprayed blood and grey matter all across its side.

He downed seven more before the alarm was finally raised, and only because he'd gotten greedy and grazed his last target. The man had hollered in agony at the flesh wound, and soon thereafter dozens of poorly dressed bums with wands flooded outside. By then Ted and Remus opened up with Bombardia Maxima's, aiming at the densest clusters of bodies in an effort to maximize the amount of casualties.

Traditional dueling tactics would have only gotten them killed. Unfortunately unlike the relatively stealthy muggle rifle the spells were easily tracked back to their source wands thanks to the colorful lights they emitted, and the two were almost immediately forced to retreat behind a natural berm from the rainbow of curses and spells being fired at them.

Carson lingered for another few seconds, emptied his rifle into the fast approaching mob of bums before slipping behind his own Earthen cover and beating a hasty retreat. Careful not to get too far ahead he reloaded and engaged the angry snatchers from behind a thick oak tree, making sure they could see him lest they miss the ambush area. Several more bodies hit the wet English ground before the massive tree was blown to smithereens, forcing him to move once more.

Despite his heart pounding in his ears the unmistakable sound of a claymore wire being tripped registered in his ears a millisecond before a deafening boom echoed through the forest. Several more explosions followed. Counting the booms he confirmed that all but one of the explosive devises had gone off. Ted and Remus were already at the rendezvous point by the time Carson made it there.

They quickly apparated away, well clear of the wards around the camp.

The prophet would later report that they'd killed 42 wizards and injured another 17. The last remaining claymore was tripped by none other than Rita Skeeter, who'd inadvertently become the first civilian casualty on account of the light side.

The counterinsurgency had begun.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11:**

 **The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon November 23rd, 1997**

Since the attack on the Burrow that summer Bill had called in every favor he'd accumulated as a curse breaker and warded the property six ways to Sunday. The unassuming house now sported wards on par with the richest pureblood families in Britain, complete with a high quality set of rune stones.

The large granite blocks were the only physical change to the property, and were mostly hidden in the overgrown vegetation that already slowly started to reclaim the bare patch of dirt the solid cubes of stone rested on. Come spring and they'd practically be gone.

What all that meant was that Carson could safely use the Vanishing Cabinet to see Tonks again. For the last few weeks the pair had been meeting up at the Weasley house, which was currently empty save for the two. Arthur was at work and Molly out grocery shopping. Yet despite the truly rare opportunity of being alone together, probably for the first time in months the couple just sat facing each other.

She was biting her lip again, a sure sign that she was nervous. He loved it when she did that.

"All right sweet pea, spit it out. What's the matter?" She'd been acting odd lately, and every time he'd asked before, she distractedly assured him it was nothing. He didn't press, knowing she'd share whatever it was that was eating her up when she felt ready. Tonks nervously shuffled around like a first year who'd just given her crush a love letter.

'To hell with it', she thought. 'I'm an Auror for Merlin's sake. Just tell him!'

"I'm pregnant", she blurted out.

Whatever he'd expected, this was not it. The curious and easygoing mask he'd worn slipped, revealing mostly surprise, but also some confusion.

"You're…?"

"…pregnant." she finished with a whisper. Her Violet eyes met his Steel blue ones. The un-natural colour gave her away every time. One would think that as a Metamorph she'd be a master of disguises, and technically that was true. But in the year or so they'd been together Carson had learnt to read her like a book. Each hair color meant something, as did her eyes. He didn't see violet very often.

He was going to be a Dad. Carson repeated that fact in his head several times, hoping to grasp the full implications with each repetition. But all that came to mind was the few precious memories he had of little Vivian, his niece. He'd held her for a few minutes, blissfully asleep, wrapped tightly in a small blanket, head covered with a tiny knitted hat. Carson blinked several times, trying to keep his wandering mind somewhat on track.

Tonks sat rigid on the other sofa, watching his eyes glaze over, almost able to see the wheels turning behind them.

'There, it was out. She'd told him. Did it make her feel any better? Yes.' But the anxiety she'd carried for the last two weeks quickly morphed into worry. Worry about how he'd react. What he'd say. What he'd do. It felt like an eternity had gone by. Neither of them moved, blinked, or even seemed to breathe.

So it came as a shock, although a welcome one when he scooted across to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly. There were no words to describe how happy and relieved she felt at that moment, siting in the Weasleys living room.

Stupid bloody hormones weren't helping either, because those first big tears were just the start. She sobbed, squeezing him back with just as much effort. Neither spoke, her because it would sound like gibberish, and he out of fear of making her cry even harder.

"How did this happen? He asked eventually. "I thought you said there were spells?"

She shook her head, using the baggy sleeves of her robe to dry her face. "Dunno. Something must have gone wrong. Maybe I said the incantation wrong."

Carson laughed, still somewhat in disbelief. They were going to have a baby. The numerous small operations with the resistance in the last few weeks coupled with the news left him slightly overwhelmed.

The shell shocked muggle slumped back into the richly dyed fabric of the old couch, pulling the pretty Witch in his arms closer. For several minutes they just sat there, listening to the far too loud wall clock tick away, relishing small gestures of mutual affection. Stroking one another's hair, holding hands, jet each lost in their own thoughts.

"My parents are goona shit a brick when they catch wind of this." The Muggle said with a hint of dread.

She half cried half laughed back. "Hah, at least yours are muggle. My mom would hex me into the last century if it weren't for the fact that I'm giving her a grandchild. Talk about using a human shield."

His hand immediately came to rest on her still flat stomach, almost reflexively. Both smiled brightly, resting their foreheads against one another before he finally stole a kiss.

The following day Carson made a risky daytrip to muggle London to buy a gold ring, despite the huge risk of going there.

oOo

Over the next few months Carson split his time evenly between visiting Tonks and continuing the recruitment drive for the DA 2.0 as he liked to call it. They'd picked up an old 6th year student of his, Dean Thomas. The dark skinned boy from London was traveling with a goblin and a third wizard, on the lam since the ministry passed legislation targeting muggle and half-bloods.

The snatchers that hunted them had been dispatched quickly, and the odd trio taken to one of their less secure safe houses. Less secure simply meant not protected by a fidelius. The locations were none the less very protected. Not by wards, but muggle booby-traps. Very lethal ones. Two way voice activated port key was the only way in or out unless you had a lot of disposable bodies to trip the defenses.

The goblin, while courteous was uneasy around the humans. After a few days the creature left the safe house, indebted to Carson and his team but otherwise on his own side. Fortunately the young Mr. Thomas and Cresswell chose to stay, and even help fight.

Dirk got along well with both Remus and Ted, who were closer in age to himself and Dean. It took several days for the Hogwarts student to drop the Professor honorific when addressing Carson, and only when he'd agreed to call him by his first name.

As with all wars and conflicts, communication and more specifically Intel gathering was vital for any serious player. As such using owls for communicating had become too risky by the end of 1997, so Carson had purchased several high end desktop computers for email correspondence, courtesy of the very heavy bag of gold Lucy had on him during his capture.

There was little to no chance that the ministry could crack the 128bit encryption on the relatively new internet mail. It also made communicating with his former platoon mates much easier as well. In fact, it went so well the plan was for him and Tonks to go Stateside for some recruiting and if they were lucky another shopping spree before hopefully returning with a number of his old unit.

The old FAL's had performed well to the point where Remus and Ted used them interchangeably with their wands now, specifically for engagements greater than 100 yards. One simply couldn't cast accurately at that range, and as an added bonus the rifle didn't strain their magical cores.

But Marines were most lethal with their sweet 16's. Besides, they only had about half a dozen of the worn out rifles. If they wanted to expand their operations against Voldemort and the Ministry more shooters would be needed.

On that note, the Snatchers were all but a former shell of their old selves. They mostly stayed in their heavily fortified strongholds, and occasionally went out on patrol if they felt like losing men. The resistance, despite being less than 10 strong owned the forests and country side. People were no longer hunted like game. Their terror tactics and ruthlessness worked against them in this case.

Locals living near the camps would regularly report on their comings and goings, giving the DA2 plenty of time to set up an ambush, or simply pick off a few bodies from afar. The skirmishes were generally very vicious. The snatchers did not expect a quarter and as such none was given. Stunners were few and far between. The dark lord's followers quickly learnt that the muggle weapons only had one setting.

Lethal.

The fight against Voldemort's Death Eaters on the other hand had almost stalled. The inner circle was unreachable, sheltered behind their warded mansions or within the ministry walls. Similarly their comings and goings were not well understood. With the loss of Snape the Order's only source of information on the bad guys had dried up.

They still terrorized the magical community, but as it stands the two groups had yet to trade shots.

He gazed over a map of Britain with a plethora of multi colored pins denoting enemy positions, friendly safe houses, and everything in between. Recently there have been rumors that Harry Potter and his class mates were seen in a wooded area north of here.

A scouting trip the next day didn't reveal much. If nothing else though it had been a good training exercise. He'd of course heard the prophecy regarding the kid's connection to Voldemort, but Carson wasn't about to accept that a minor could end the war by being 'marked' as his equal.

In the long term, he wasn't sure what to do. Despite their efforts nothing much had changed. Voldemort still controlled the government, and if left unchecked could take over Europe soon thereafter. Thus far none of the other European ministries had reached out to help them.

Similarly, how the British Prime minister was not acting on the information evident was beyond him. Perhaps they'd imperio'd him? Either way muggle deaths were spiraling out of control. The BBC was calling it a domestic crisis.

People were advised to secure their homes more thoroughly and the authorities were being raked across the coals for not getting ahead of this. It didn't help that the munitions thefts from last month had reached the media. The Ministry of Defense was having a jolly good time trying to downplay what was taken. Heh, that one might have been his fault.

Carson sighed long and hard, scratching the back of his head. For now he'd focus on recruitment. Logistics was also going to be a problem. If even half of the people he'd reach out too accepted the warehouse would need a bigger kitchen than the current hotplate and camping stove they'd made due with thus far. Hell, perhaps he could sneak into Hogwarts and kidnap a few House Elves. The idea made him snort.

oOo

 **Oceanside, California December 14th, 1997**

He felt like a door to door sales man, the Seattle native mused just before his finger connected with the buzzer of a rundown apartment complex. This was the eleventh such visit today, with several more just like it in the coming days. And that was just the introductions!

"Hello?" a scratchy voice asked from the small graffiti'ed over speaker.

"Hey, it's Carson." Without much delay the electric drone of the magnetic door lock buzzed from the equally vandalized door. Tonks strolled on through, observing this latest slum with an equal amount of interest and revolt. They ascended the stairs, mindful of the trash and questionable stains on the treads.

The first door on the second floor was already open, a large bearded man silhouetted against the dimly lit hallway.

"Lieutenant, good to see you again."

Carson's hand practically vanished as they shook hands. Mendez was one of his Master Sergeant's. The man absolutely solid, with a good 15 years of experience in the Corps before Carson had even considered joining the 3rd. At almost 250 pounds the California native was also one of the largest men in the company. If there was any sort of strength competition, be it arm wrestling, or the annual Pendleton boxing tourney you could bet money Mendez would be in the thick of it.

"Good to see you too Sarge. How've you been?" The much shorter former officer grinned, almost having to crane his neck.

The man shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting beneath all that hair. "Fair enough. A bit boring since the discharge. Kinda hard to fill your day after 25 years in the corps, ya know. But enough about me. Who's this fine young lady?"

Carson smiled. He liked Mendez. The man didn't have a potty mouth like most of the men. In addition to his superb leadership skills the man also had a knack for some of the more technological stuff. Overall a well-rounded individual, he concluded.

"Right! Tonks, allow me to introduce Billy Mendez. Billy, this is my wife Nym Tonks ne Wolf." They hadn't decided on a single last name. Seeing how Ted and Andy only had one child they didn't want the family name to disappear. He could understand that.

"How do you do?" Billy griped her hand, though far more gently than he'd done with Carson.

Mendez led them into his living room before disappearing into the kitchen to get drinks. The apartment, unlike the common spaces was immaculate. The furnishings were very Spartan, and it was quite apparent that the man lived alone.

Tonks declined the beer offered to her, and the former Lieutenant was sure he saw the man's brow lift in realization. Finally Billy settled into the opposing recliner with a sigh.

"So kids, what brings around these parts? I assume this isn't just a social call."

Billy was sharp. He kept in contact with a fair share of people from his many years in the service. Occasionally someone he wasn't too familiar with would reach out to him and suggest 'a business opportunity'. Often a lot of money was involved. Not once did he agree, but instead tried to guide the troubled person onto another path. He hoped this wasn't the case here.

Their sales pitch had gotten better over the last ten times, and within 15 minutes the situation was explained, including practical demonstrations. Billy actually took it surprisingly well, much better in fact than most others. Instead of taking time to digest what the couple had said Mendez accepted the facts and dove straight into the finer details of what Carson had planned.

"So you're fighting a guerrilla style conflict against a terror group that controls the officially recognized government?"

"Basically" the tired younger man agreed.

"Damn. I didn't think things were that bad over there. Ok, tell me what you've done so far."

Carson was confused at the offhand comment but didn't ask…yet.

The planned 30 minute visit turned into a three hour brainstorming session. Billy proved himself invaluable almost immediately, suggesting several other individuals who'd be up for an off the books operation like this, even going so far as to contact them directly or with Carson in tow.

They wrapped it up shortly before 11 pm. Tonks was dozing on the sofa by then, and all too happy to get to their Hotel for the night.

Billy Medez sat down after seeing the newlyweds outside. 'So the kid had gotten himself mixed up with the stick waivers.' The retired Staff Sargent finished off the remainder of his beer but opted to go with water. They'd covered a lot in the last few hours. With a number of things to be done he grabbed a notepad, putting to paper what needed to be done in the next few days.

oOo

The next day was spent similarly to the last. They'd reached out to dozens of people from his old unit, and even some from first and second battalion through his Master Sergeant. In three days everyone still on board would get to experience the novel experience of port key travel. Back in the warehouse several buckets and mops were waiting to catch the mess that was bound to happen.

But before they journeyed back to Britain the couple had one… no, two stops to make. The easy one was first. Stealing most of the offensive hardware mated to a fighting Battalion of the US Marine Corps.

Piece of cake really.

The latter, not so much. Carson wasn't sure if his mother's anger of getting married in secret would win over the joy of getting another grandchild. It was even odds really. Like flipping a coin. To think that it go either way. With a shudder he returned to the present.

Carson, Tonks, and three other members of his former platoon were sitting inside the rental car outside Camp Pendleton, the sprawling Marine Corps Base where they'd all once been stationed.

The three with him were Oceanside locals and his closest friends while he was stationed here, and would help with the "procurement" of supplies. After a quick demonstration and a rough brief on what they were dealing with they'd volunteered.

Carson had picked individuals with no spouses or young kids. The three here tonight included a Widower and two non-committed guys, one of whom was also between jobs. They knew the risks, and also that there might not be any reward for doing so. All of them had his trust though, and he in turn theirs. They'd listen to his orders, and that was what would make this work.

Speaking of work, Tonks would do most of it this evening. A smaller team would have been preferred, but even with magically expanded bags, trunks, and the like it would be too much for two people to carry. They had a big shopping list, and would need most of it if they wanted to play war with good ol Voldi.

Unlike last time Carson wasn't even remotely phased at the thought of breaking into a military installation. The operation began when Tonks cast several muggle _notice me not_ and repelling charms on the vehicle. When the barrier was lifted to let a vehicle through, they simply followed right behind. The guards didn't spare them a glance. The base was more of a miniature city. Neighborhoods, restaurant, fire station. It was all there.

The second checkpoint was a bit trickier. The base had recently received extensive security upgrades, including IR and motion sensing cameras. That meant the supply depot was very well secured.

He popped the trunk near the perimeter fencing, allowing Tonks to retrieve her broom. She then transfigured the four men into small items, Plastic toy soldiers in fact and stuffed them in her pocket before lifting off under a disillusionment charm.

The cameras were trained to focus on the fence, not above it. She touched down in front of the massive doors to the bunker dug into the hillside. The large padlock was defeated with ease, while a silencing charm made sure no one could hear the heavy chain falling to the floor.

Inside she turned the boys back.

"Wow, that felt highly unpleasant." One said with a shake of his head. Carson had to agree. It was an equally bad sensation to the port key, but at the same time different.

They roamed over the crates and boxes, picking out items on their list. Dozens of rifles, Light and heavy machine guns and shotguns found their way into the deep pockets. Crates filled with grenades of every flavor were loaded into multi compartment trunks. Hundreds of ammo cans containing a variety of munitions disappeared.

Carson popped a dusty crate open to find serval green tubes and dozens of silver shells. He called over Tonks and asked her to shrink the entire crate, then placed a feather light charm on it before stuffing it with the rest. The AT-4's were squared away, and the three others had located the disassembled components of the Browning M2 50 cals.

All in all it took 20 minutes. The trunks, even shrunk and tempered with every lightening charm in the book still weighed more than a car. In the end she opted to transfigure the charmed storage devices. It worried her that one could place shrunken objects inside a shrunken and charmed trunk that would then be turned into a marble.

Sometimes magic surprised even her, she thought in amusement while tossing one of the glass spheres into the air before catching it again.

They returned to the car and drove of base. Tonight had been a success. That hard part now was going back to Washington to fess up to his folks.

oOo

The last time they'd been to his sleepy old hometown Tonks had memorized a suitable apparation point close by, which meant no driving for two days from California.

His mother had of course seen the rings almost immediately, and the jovial happy woman that had raised him turned into a more frightening interrogator than his father ever could hope to be.

Yeah, he may have thrown Tonks under the bus to safe his own skin. Ok scratch that, he definitely did. The bubblegum haired Witch glared daggers at him for the rest of the afternoon.

Not that she had many chances to do so. Carmel doted on the girl as soon as the cards hit the table. That woman was like a shark, and there was most definitely blood in the water.

Pete on the other hand was more laid back, but far from happy with the development. His repeated searches for information about the girl had come up with precisely nothing. Which meant that the name she'd provided was false. He didn't like being like being lied to. But whatever he'd meant to say became irrelevant because there was a very good reason she wasn't in the Brit's system.

Honestly, in the beginning he thought they were pulling his chain. Magic? The middle aged Inspector shook his head in disappointment. What had his son been up to over there? Then the girl pulled out a wooden stick and his perception of the world changed forever.

Now the four were sitting around the kitchen table, with the younger pair trying to explain the last few months without making it sound as bad as it actually was. Carson was basically admitting that he'd killed people to a member of the FBI.

Pete Wolf left the table after the impromptu confession and poured himself two fingers of aged scotch from a crystal decanter. Two was the most he'd consume without having to worry about missing something.

But God damn it, this was serious.

Carmel and he had been worried sick when Carson had been deployed to that Hellish place several years ago. From what he'd gleaned the situation he was in now was infinitely more dangerous. At least back then he'd been a very small part of hugely powerful fighting force, not the leader of a rag tag group of freedom fighters.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to speak up about the risk. The news headlines were clear as day. Dozens of people were being slaughtered over there each and every week. Scotland Yard had even quietly requested assistance from the Bureau, though that was being handled by the East Coast division.

He was tempted to advise his colleagues of this newest lead but instantly squashed the thought. It's not like he could just pick up the phone and say; 'Hey, the reason why we don't have jack shit on these guys is because they're Wizards.'

He sat back down and squeezed his wife's shaking hands. There was no way to persuade him from this, just like the kid couldn't convince his young wife to sit on the sidelines in her current condition.

Pete rubbed his brow and sighed. 'What a clusterfuck.'

oOo

 **DA2.0 Headquarters, Bristol, England December 18th, 1997**

"All right everyone, first of all I'd like to thank you all for volunteering." Carson began, awkwardly starting the first informal debrief after their journey from the States. The assembled men and women nodded, standing at attention in two long lines two deep. "First thing's first!" Carson turned and clearly wrote Voldemort's name out on a whiteboard.

"The guy we're up against is a real crazy fucker. If you say his name his cronies can track you down. The wand wavers call it the Taboo curse. We found this out late last summer, and haven't been able to say it since. So instead we've been calling him Voldie. Feel free to come up with your own twist on it, just don't go too overboard."

A few in the group smirked in a disturbing way, leading him to believe they've already crossed the lines he'd _just_ drawn.

…

Whatever. Moving on.

"Other than that, he practically controls the ministry. So far we've been hesitant to fight their police force directly because we don't actually know who's acting voluntarily and who isn't. With the additional manpower we can implement a number of plans that are relatively low risk high reward to help us build up our forces. Supply and prison raids mainly. But before we do you lot will need to get back into shape!"

Much protesting and grunting followed. Their already substantial warehouse had been expanded extensively in recent days to accommodate the extra bodies. It included a fully equipped gym that may or may not have been forcibly donated by a nearby sports center and a full-sized running track.

Two house elves had been whisked from the school and would take care of the cooking. Marines were fairly cleanly compared to Hogwarts' students so two were more than enough. The handful of Wizards and Witches they'd picked up in recent months were not exempt from the 'conditioning' the Marines would be undergoing. Fortunately Ted and Remus had already been in the field a few times. It would be hard for the older men, but not impossible.

 **oOo**

 **North Sea, 70 miles East of Edinburogh, England December 31th, 1997**

True to his word, a mere two weeks after arriving in England a 14 man team of handpicked individuals led by Lieutenant Wolf and Master Sargent Mendez were on route to the most notorious prison in the UK.

The idea was that if good ol Voldie could do it, why not them as well. In recent months the prison had been drained of Death eaters and criminals, the latter of which swelled the ranks of Snatchers. In their place honest and innocent citizens now suffered. Well, with their expanded base the total number of people it could support drastically increased. And who better to fight than some pissed off people who've been imprisoned for no reason whatsoever.

There were some minor details to bang out of course, like the invisible soul sucking monsters that guarded the place, and the anti-portkey and apparation wards plastered on every square inch of the island.

He shifted in his seat in an attempt to find a slightly more comfortable position. The journey would only be another 20 minutes or so he reckoned, but damn these Blackhawks were not made with creature comforts in mind. Yes, that's right.

He could add Grand theft auto (or helicopter in this case) to his growing list of felonies. One of his men had a pilot's license, and actual hours flying the very aircraft they'd nicked from one of the Royal Air Force bases.

Removing the tracking hardware on the bird had been Childs play, and one clever Wand waiver had even charmed the aircraft to be invisible to radar. Oh and it also didn't need fuel and the aluminum hull was covered in strengthening runes. Which was pretty sweet.

The dark gray Helo was currently skimming a mere 50 feet over the choppy and cold North Sea, flanked on either side by several Wizards and Witches on brooms. The side gunners on the H-60 had thermal goggles on.

Dementors it seemed worked a little differently than most living things. Instead of radiating heat the flying hooded monsters had the signature of an open ice box. The effect it seemed wasn't just psychological.

While muggles couldn't see the things within the visible spectrum, they stood out nicely as navy blues and purples on the infra-red side. He'd been told they were immortal, and that only the Parronas spell was effective. Well, he'd bet money that no one had tried to fire incendiary munitions at them.

The unusual V formation of muggle and magical aircraft crossed the wards and the Helo sputtered for a few seconds before recovering. The men and Women inside traded nervous looks and prayed the magic dampening runes placed on the sensitive instruments and computers would continue to do their job.

Carson had authorized the gunners to engage at will as soon as their flying friends came into range. The sharp Brrrrrrbbb's of the mini guns still came as a surprise though. Angry red lines of fire lashed out at invisible targets only the gun's operators could see.

The toe curling howls and screeches the creature made however could be experienced by all. It sounded like a mix between fingers over a chalkboard and a loose power steering belt. Silvery bright animals burst from their escorts wands and joined the fray.

Within seconds a hole had been punched through the outer defenses of the Prison Fortress.

The landing had gone off without a hitch, dumping the team on top of the large square structure. The roof had no entrance, but a brick of C-4 did the trick. They'd taken three of the magicals with them in case things got interesting, while the other three kept their pilot company and drove off the occasional Dementor that got too friendly.

Next were the Doors. The cell door hardware was of course impervious to unlocking charms, even the most powerful ones, so they were either unlocked with plastic explosive or magnum shotgun slugs.

As the team swept the upper floors the cells were emptied. Most of its occupants were in rough shape, having suffered more in a few short months under the new management than the Death Eaters ever did in the previous ten.

Names and pictures were compared to faces, with the Evac team often having to stretch the imagination to make a positive ID. The documents had stealthily been copied by their inside man in the Ministry. Nine times out of ten the individuals in question were upstanding citizens.

They had to be sure not to take everyone, especially those even Voldemort didn't want running loose. And that was saying something.

Regardless, in under an hour the prison was virtually empty, and hundreds of malnourished Wizards and Witches were loaded into a hastily unshrunk Brittany Ferries Vessel that up until yesterday evening was shuttling people over the English Channel.

By then the ministry had caught wind of what was happening over on Sunny Azkaban Island Holiday resort and sent their own 'relief' force to the island via broom.

Random tidbit of information of the day. Did you know it doesn't take any more energy to make a larger object into a port key? An object say…the size of a ferry?

Yeah. Kinda cool.

So with full speed ahead the 300 foot long steel vessel cleared the outer port key boundary of the Island and vanished. Some flabbergasted fishermen off the coast of wales would later swear that a large white passenger ferry had simply appeared less than a mile of their port side.

Luckily no one believed them, though the information would eventually make its way back the Ministry of Magic. Likewise, when the good folks at Brittany got their ferry back the navigations log gave them much to scratch their heads at.

Somehow the nav computer thought the ship had jumped from one side of the UK right on over to the other. They eventually reset the system, not aware that it was perfectly fine.

The Blackhawk collected the three broom toting wizards, dipped its bulbous nose forward and accelerated back towards the faintly visible English coastline at a brisk 158 knots. The ministry response force couldn't possibly hope to match the Military helicopter and quickly returned to the island.

Just as they touched down the massive monolith shuddered from a large explosion. Plumes of fine granite dust rushed out of the hundreds of small openings as if someone had stepped on paper bag filled with flour. The building remained standing as expected. The wall were too thick to bring down completely, unless of course one had several weeks and hundreds of explosive packed holes in the support columns and walls. But for the coming months Azkaban would be out of order.

Back in Bristol the newly freed citizens of Magical Britain were squared away. The next week or so was going to be spent treating the malnourished 'ex cons' as Carson had liked to call them.

Most were grateful to be free, though that term was technically incorrect. They couldn't leave here for a number of reasons, the most glaring of which was that they had no other place to go.

With that in mind Carson was busy recruiting bodies for the eventual showdown between good and evil. It sounded cheesy as hell, but that's what it kinda boiled down to.

And so after a day of shooting at terrifying magical creatures, stealing and modifying more British Military equipment, and 'Borrowing' a passenger ferry for humanitarian reasons the last day of 1997 came to a close.

Or so Nymphedora Tonks thought. She and Carson had gotten into another argument over her continued involvement in the offensive operations the DA 2.0 was conducting. They'd gone head to head right up to the moment when the emotional muggle threw up his hands in defeat, boarded the Chopper, and proceeded to glare at his Wife of a month and a half through the open side door while she took off on her broom.

Of course she didn't stop there, going so far as to do barrel rolls and looping in plain sight of her Husband. The rest of the crew had laughed at their 'fight', but didn't egg their XO on. They'd need him sharp and focused for the next few hours. After that they could bicker all they wanted.

Well, that's what she was expecting when a serious looking Carson Wolf came her way. With a sigh she steeled herself for round two. Honestly, why couldn't he let this go? Yes, she was pregnant. But right now they needed every Wand to fight, and quite honestly the Death Eaters didn't care if she was expecting or not.

Before she could even get a word out though the source of most of her stress grabbed her by the hand and they disappeared. She stumbled a little at the unexpected port key ride, but two strong hands kept her from tumbling over arse over teakettle.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" she lashed out, anger being the far easier emotion to convey than confusion. Carson simply chuckled, removing his one hand and stealthily moving sideways to keep his other draped over her shoulder.

Only then did she see where they were.

'Definitly not Britain.' Her dragon hide boots dug into the brilliant white sand. They were on a beach. It was warm. To warm for the coats they sported. There was a lively beachside bonfire, and a nearby table with two chairs. The sun was nothing more than a crimson red orb low over the water, bathing the beach in an orange glow.

It was a freaking romantic dinner.

"What do you think?" Carson sounded proud of himself. Yeah, he was still upset because of earlier this morning, but he'd be damned if they carried over into the new year by fighting. So, with the help of one of the house elves and a small amount of liquor he'd arranged this!

"Before you get your hopes up, no I didn't cook this."

Tonks snorted, remembering their first 'real' dinner date back in the Castle all that time ago.

Half an hour ago this beach had been empty. The house elf had really outdone itself. The tablecloth was crooked, and for some reason there were only forks. Maybe he'd given the poor fella a bit too much brandy. But on the other hand…House Elf magic; amazing! The touch activated port key felt smooth as silk. He didn't even fall on the other end. Those little guys really knew their stuff. Too bad they weren't allowed to practice magic freely.

Tonks remained silent as he seated her but fought a losing battle to keep a genuine smile off her face.

Oh he'd pay for this later.

Unlike the table settings the food was perfect. He'd never really liked lamb too much, but Nym had developed a wicked craving for pungent meat. After transfiguring some of their excess forks into steak knives she tore into her chops, barley managing to uphold her table manners.

They ate mostly in silence, the occasional comment passing but neither wanting to ruin the moment by talking.

The whole table including utensils banished themselves when they rose, and the pair settled into a large of comfortable oversized wooden reclining chair by the fire. The sun was gone now, but still putting on a vivid light show with the help of hundreds of Cumulus clouds drifting lazily overhead. For the longest time the two simply laid there, just content to be held by the other.

"You know this won't change my mind right?" she eventually stated. Carson continued to stroke her back, never missing a beat.

"Yeah, I know." His tone was complacent. No, they could work this out some other time. For now he just wanted to spend some time with her and not think about the coming months.

She sighed in content, but didn't push the issue any further. After all, why ruin this moment?

 **Ahhh, leans back in chair and folds hands behind head. The second to last chapter is up! There were some holes I've been meaning to fill with this one, and finally managed to find the time to do so. Work is kicking my ass hard, and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future. None the less, I'm hoping to have this fic wrapped up before months end. (Crosses fingers)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12:**

And here it is, the final chapter of Muggle in the mix! I decided not to split this chapter, so it is quite large. Please Enjoy!

 **Hidden U.S. resistance Base, Bristol, England May 2nd, 1998**

It was another typical evening at the illegal American base hidden in the impossible to find warehouse on the outskirts of Bristol when the messenger Patronas arrived.

The school was under siege.

All Order members are asked to rally for the Castles defense.

Former Lieutenant Carson Wolf immediately shouted orders to the lounging men to mobilize and be ready to move out within 15 minutes.

Remus and Ted made several single use port keys to the Hogs Head, the Orders only even remotely secure location within Hogsmeade. A messenger Patronus was sent to Aberforth to prepare for a 60 men strong force to arrive.

Carson then pulled out the lookie talky, as they'd dubbed the small handheld mirrors.

"Tonks? Tonks!" It took a few seconds for the connection to stabilize.

"Carson? Did you receive word? We need to get to the School!"

"I did. You know why I'm calling, right?"

"I do!" she replied defiantly. "And the answer is no. I'm not going to sit on the sidelines for this!"

Carson wanted to argue. But from the sounds of it there was no point, and besides there was no time.

"Shit!"

He tucked the mirror away and geared up.

"Were done with the port keys." Remus shouted from the warehouse floor below. "Aberforth knows you're coming. Take the tunnels to the castle. We'll meet you there."

With a pair of cracks the two Wizards vanished.

Carson took another minute to brief his men, then they formed groups of 6 around random items. Seconds later the warehouse was deserted.

 **Magical Village of Hogsmeade, Scotland, England May 2nd, 1998**

Aberforth was not having a good evening. Word from the School was that the Dark Lord was going to lay siege to the castle, and several hundred students who couldn't fight were on their way down.

At the same time a sizable group of muggle soldiers was due to arrive here any second, intent on going through the same 3 foot wide passage the other way. As if on cue, the green and olive draped muggles arrived in the main dining area.

"There are children coming down the tunnel." He immediately explained. "It will take some time to send them through."

Carson cursed. His men couldn't fly on brooms. Not that there were that many here anyway. Hoofing it was out of the question. They'd be out in the open, and that path wasn't easily defended. The invisible horses were also out of the question. Hagrid told him that it takes weeks to coax the creatures to pull the carriages for the beginning of term.

The tunnels were the only way! Wait. Unless…

"Aberforth, can you charm the boats to take us over the lake under disillusionment charms?"

The trip would take about as long as taking the tunnels. He'd read about how the first years got into the school. It was perfect, so long as they could remain hidden. The bar owner moved to open another passage.

It seemed that the entire village was honeycombed with tunnels leading every which way. A by-product of the Villages more turbulent past. One such passage led to a node and from there to the boathouse.

The wooden rowboats were small, meant to hold four 70 pound children. With their gear, they managed two marines each. The poor bastards hauling the Browning M2's sat alone.

It was eerie, gliding over the mirror like surface of the lake, in complete silence. Carson was reminded of the ferry ride of Styx. The comparison made the young commander shudder. The school was up ahead, still basking in the late afternoon sunlight.

It was quiet. Very quiet. He could here a few whispered conversations from the men around him. They were in awe of the old stone building growing closer.

Despite being next to invisible everyone was very glad to be off the small wooden boats. Had they been spotted it would have been like shooting fish in a barrel. The march up the serpentine path to the front gate worked out the small kinks the men had developed while sitting on the childishly small benches. Honestly, how the 12' grounds keeper could make the journey every year was beyond him.

The platoon sized unit entered the front gate, having marched passed the rows upon rows of stone knights. They were greeted at the entrance by a motley crew of students, teachers, and Order members.

"Headmistress McGonagall, Former Lieutenant Carson Wolf reporting for duty." He saluted the older woman as if she were his superior officer.

"We heard you have a Death Eater problem."

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, England May 2nd, 1998**

Not for the first time was Lieutenant Carson Wolf glad that Uncle Sam had placed him within a Weapons Company instead of a regular one, specifically within a heavy machinegun platoon. His men knew the best places to set up shop, maximizing their fields of fire and minimizing their exposure to the enemy.

From what he'd gathered it would take every MG at their disposal to hold the line. Voldemort had hundreds if not thousands of followers, ranging from the snatchers they'd faced previously to Werewolves, Vampires and even giant spiders. The most ludicrous however where the trolls and giants. It was hard to believe that the humanoids could outweigh a full-sized elephant.

By the time the platoon had finished digging in the last rays from Sol were long gone.

He'd been unable to leave his command and find Tonks when the show started. White lights emanating from the hills around the castle slowly arced towards them, only to hit a domelike shield.

The spell fire hitting the ancient wards lit up the sky brighter than anything he'd ever seen. Hundreds of the brilliant white flare like projectiles splashed against the translucent shields, bathing the castle and lake in a faint blue light.

The impacts sounded like distant thunder. He smelt Ozone. The defenders were ready.

He'd convinced the Headmistress to station the stone soldiers within the castle itself. The bridge would be defended by Muggle weapons. The light platoon of Americans had been tasked to hold the castle entrance while Magicals would defend in the upper levels of the castle, where appearing Death eaters, students and Order members were fighting pitched battles on the mezzanines and catwalks in the clock and astronomy tower.

Finally, a white beam from the hilltop beyond the chasm ripped the last of the shield apart. The entire dome overloaded before fizzling like charred paper. For a moment everything was still.

Then, like a horde Voldemort's army descended from the slopes. The mass of enemies looked like something out of J. R. R. Tolkien novel. The stampeding mass would be difficult to stop short of continuous sustained fire, and even with assurances that the cooling runes etched on the barrels would do their job the gunners' instinct screamed not to depress the triggers too long.

A plethora of multicolored spells and tracer gunfire lit up the pitch-black battlefield, the formers splashing over the muggles cover like luminescent paint while the latter ricocheted off the hard ground, flying in unpredictable angles, their pyrotechnic coated tips burning fiercely before fizzing out.

The heavy machine gunners utilized the subdued variety which lit after a hundred yards or so, effectively keeping their positions hidden in the deep shadows of the castle walls.

Explosions sent plumes of dirt and stone high into the air. Overpowered Lumos spells and magnesium illumination flares lit up the night sky, hanging around for minutes at a time before burning out.

The Giants and Trolls were the biggest targets and quickly felled by the massed fire and expert marksmanship of the heavy machine gunners. With an effective range of more than a mile, the few hundred yards the heavy slugs had to cover to their targets was closer than the standard engagements these weapons were used to seeing.

Two had opted for HE while the rest spewed AP from their thundering barrels. The heavy M2's spit fire like water from a hose, their operators moving the glowing stream of copper and lead as if watering a garden.

With a rate of fire of about 500 rounds per minute the Ma Deuces emptied the cans so fast the second man in the crew had difficulty linking another belt in time before the end vanished into the feeder.

The dark creatures were blasted by the non-magical equivalent of high powered Reducters and Piercing curses. It was a well sprung trap that capitalized on the purebloods ignorance of just how lethal muggle warfare had become.

The Marines had held their fire until the horde was truly within the kill zone, a mere 300 yards away. Even from that range a wand couldn't hope to be as accurate, no matter how good the caster. No longer was a dragon compared to a muggle army of a thousand or a battalion of war mages.

Everything had gone well until the first of the heavy MG's fell silent, the two man guard assigned to that platform having been flushed out and killed by the one foe they couldn't fight.

Dementors.

The men had been made aware of creatures they could not see or hear. To prevent them from succumbing to the Dark creatures a select few wizards able to cast the Patronas charm had been on hand to fend them off, but their lack of training meant they were quickly picked off by Broom flying death eaters. Two more crews were knocked out soon after that.

With the loss of almost half the heavy guns the mass of enemies previously pinned down began swarming the bridge, despite taking murderous casualties in the process. Left with no choice, the ten pounds of C4 placed on the center span of the beautiful stone bridge was detonated, effectively cutting off anyone who couldn't fly or apperate.

The half dozen or so Giants that did manage to cross however were wreaking havoc within the defensive perimeter. Small arms like the M4's and 16's didn't have the stopping power to bring down a foe as large as this. But the marines were nothing if not resourceful. One was killed with dozen frag grenades going off under its ass, and another blinded by a flash bang, causing it to trip over the stone railing and into the ravine below. Two more fell to sniper fire aimed at the eyes and throat, while a 5th had its head blown apart by an AT-4 light anti-tank weapon.

Directly above in the upper levels of the battlements Tonks, Lupin, and Shakelbolt were dueling no less than ten Death eaters in the bell tower. Initially she'd seen her Husband commanding the muggles that had come to aid the school, but the last few minutes had degenerated into chaos.

She'd downed dozens of the Dark Lords followers, but more kept filling in the ranks. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought that you know who would have so many people willing to die for his beliefs.

She' met many of young adults they'd cut down in school at one point or another. How had things become so bad?

Deflecting a particularly vicious cutting curse she recognized from a book located in Black library, the bubblegum haired Auror replied in kind with a Bombardia maxima aimed at the wooden floor beside the Death eater's feet.

The blast tore the dark wizard apart, and also accidentally severed the thick rope holding the massive bronze bell in place. It fell, smashing through the wood supports before falling on top of a particularly vicious giant with a U shaped staff that was giving Carson and his squad a hard time.

Their cheers were thanks enough for the spunky witch, who then quickly moved on to help a struggling Kingsley deal with the rest of the combatants.

Speaking of having a hard time, the eight legged freaks had begun to enter the castle grounds after climbing up the other side of the chasm. Thousands of the oversized spiders now swarmed the two dozen or so remaining defenders, forcing the marines to fall back and into the main entrance. Hundreds were dropped by the muggle's guns, but for every Arachnoid killed three more took its place. The Squad Automatic Weapons were running hot, concentrating on the largest clusters while the Riflemen picked off anything the gunners missed.

The inside of the castle was a mess. Chucks of stone had been gauged out of walls, wooden doors blasted clean off their hinges, and shattered glass crunched under their heavy soled combat boots.

Random skirmishes were fought in the great hall. Carson had to wonder why the hell they had even bothered to defend the outside of the Castle when there was clearly no safety to be found inside its walls.

Several shots rang out, dropping a trio of hooded combatants which were driving a student force thrice their number into a corner. The kids lacked dueling training, making them far less effective than a fully trained Wizard or Witch. He felt revolted seing kids pressed into battle, but right now everybody made a difference.

Carson ordered half of the remaining platoon to cover the front doors, stacking spider corpses like firewood by the ruined main entrance. The two carrying SAW's were burning through ammo at an alarming rate, but the evil creatures could not be allowed inside.

After ordering two of his men to a well-stocked broom closet they'd stored munitions in, the group again spit in half. Resupplied, the original dozen guarding the door had effectively plugged the entryway with dead spiders.

A few remained to pick off any that managed to squeeze through while the rest moved as a group through the castle's hallways, ending duels and freeing up wands to fight in the great hall. They'd picked up Flitwick, Aberforth, and a hand full of Weasleys by the time they entered the largest room in the School.

"What happened? The younger Dumbledore sibling asked after the muggles had ruthlessly gunned down his previous opponent. "Did his followers overwhelm you?"

The Lieutenant was angry at the loss of half a dozen men to creatures he couldn't even kill. But anger was one of the most dangerous emotions to have in a battle, more so even than crippling fear. It made men lose focus and reckless. With a deep breath he centered himself.

"Yes, we had to destroy the bridge. Some of the giants managed to get across, but we stopped most of them in the courtyard. A few did manage to bust through the Walls to the great hall."

He didn't mention the mob of Spiders that clogged the front door.

Said giants could be seen demolishing the staff table while dozens of Wizards and witches duke'd it out around them. The newly formed sweep team separated into groups of two, Marines buddying up with a witch or wizard that would deflect all but the Unforgivables while the muggles focused on offense and dishing out the pain. His partner was one of the Weasley twins. He had no clue which. The boys silvery shield sputtered to life and absorbed a purple hex aimed at the Soldier and his bodyguard.

A three round burst felled the caster, buying Carson a few moments to drop the nearly spent mag and slap a fresh one home. To his left a high powered Reducto blew into one of his men's guards, hurling the blonde witch across the hall.

The corporal wasted no time hosing down the culprit and his two associates before sprinting to check on the still smoking woman. There was no time to see if she had survived. The last remaining Giant fell, mortally wounded by a piercing hex through the mouth. It crushed two death eaters and pinned a third on its way down.

A short burst from his M16A2 killed the man, who had somehow retained his wand despite having his legs crushed. Within thirty seconds the volume of noise in the hall had tapered off to a few fizzes and bangs.

Soon after shouts of all clear followed. Having secured the largest room in the castle, a guard force was left and the wounded consolidated while Carson and his remaining men regrouped with the rest of his platoon.

Within ten minutes the first three floors and dungeons were cleared, leaving only minor pockets of resistance in a few classrooms. The latter was actually achieved by blasting the magically strengthened glass in the Slytherin Common room using a healthy amount of plastic explosive (with a Weasley twins concocted magical amplifier), which subsequently flooding the entire sublevels of the School.

Ravenclaw tower had completely collapsed in on itself, effectively sealing the hospital wing from the rest of the castle. A small work crew mainly composed of students was charged with clearing a path to the wing, while the now much larger sweep team ascended onto the next floor.

Carson became split from his squad after stepping onto the 4th floor landing. The thrice damned stone staircase ground and spun, taking the rest of his team to another part of the castle. Cut off, he ordered them to continue on while pushing ahead by himself.

Right away he made himself useful, yanking a barley experienced 5th year out of a corridor and saving him from a killing curse. He tossed a frag grenade down the stone corridor with a dull clank and pressed the kid against the wall. The blast left a sizable gauge in the floor, and turned a great amount of the stone into fine dusk that swirled through the air.

He double tapped the pair of downed combatants before dragging the far too reckless Gryffindor with him. Actually he had no idea what house the kid was with, but dueling two Death Eaters solo automatically put him with that house in his opinion, Sorting Hat be damned.

oOo

Tonks was in trouble and she knew it. The majority of her team was either dead or missing. But the real problem was on the other end of her wand. It was her bat shit crazy aunt Bella.

Voldemorts second in command had come out of nowhere, flanked by Dolohov and another she didn't know. Her squad mates had engaged the other two, leaving her to deal with the only other female. After the usual pre duel banter and name calling, during which the pregnant Auror had desperately searched for a way to escape, the unhinged woman had started throwing the vilest of curses and hexes at her niece.

She blocked all of them of course, but at one point Voldemorts right hand had observed Tonks place her hand over her stomach in a most unusual manner.

She'd observed this behavior once before…

Bellatrix had what most people called an identic memory. Like a file search on a computer she recalled how her dear younger sister had done almost the exact same when confronted by her then betrothed about a minor disagreement.

She'd been carrying that good for nothing Malfoy spawn at the time.

Her eyes widened in understanding.

"Nymphedora dear, don't tell me you got yourself knocked up by that Muggle you've been whoring yourself out too?"

Her crazy purple eyes bored into the younger woman gray ones with the intensity of Fiendfyre.

'She knew. But how?'

Tonks backed away further, wand grasped so tightly her knuckles were white. Her hand shook for the first time since before Auror training.

"Allow me to help you rid yourself of this disgusting half-blood spawn." The curly haired woman cackled maniacally before going on the offensive once more.

Abortion spells were never meant to be offensive. They did not harm the recipient, but extinguished the second, more fragile life within. It was like a watered down version of the AK curse and had the potential to be just as evil as its more potent variant.

Her shield stopped the first series, but she tripped over a piece of the castle's ruined stonework while backing up and fell. Her wand slipped from her sweaty palm and clattered to the floor. 'This was it, she was done for.' Bella grinned victoriously and raised her crooked wand, ready to end the life of yet another one of her relatives.

"Say hello to Cousin Sirius for me will you dear." the crazed woman said. "Avara Ked-"

Tonks squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of her baby, and how she'd let down both it and its father.

oOo

Carson had just finished sweeping another corridor. There didn't seem to be much going on in this part of the castle, he concluded. Faint booms and gunfire could be heard, no doubt his team hogging all the fun. The student he'd saved had been stashed in one of Hogwarts's many broom closets with a promise that if Carson saw the teen outside of it before morning there'd be hell to pay.

From beyond the corridor echoed a half crazed laugh he was all too familiar with. The Lestrange woman had been on the Astronomy tower that night. She was obviously preoccupied with someone at the moment, or else why would she be laughing.

Deciding to go for stealth, the young man crept around the corner and found the target facing away from him. She was taunting someone. The moment her would-be victim pleaded back however his heart almost burst.

Nym! His wife was sprawled out on the floor, desperately trying to protect their unborn child by scooting away. There was no time. That bitch raised her wand as he brought up his rifle. It was set to full auto. His target was less than 30 yards away. Tonks wasn't in his line of fire, and better yet low to the ground. Aiming a tad bit low, he pulled the trigger.

Tonks watched as her aunt was torn apart by the spray of muggle gunfire. It reverberated through the hallway like thunder that just wouldn't stop. The first shots hit near the midriff, followed by more and more as the barrel climbed up from the barley manageable recoil.

Blood and gore sprayed across the floor. Spent brass clinked against the solid stone floor. She was dead before she'd even hit the ground. A half formed cry of joy and relief was all she could manage when he raced to where she'd rested, not even bothering to check for that vile woman's pulse.

Carson gently but firmly wrapped his arms around her, inhaling her scent and muttering a relieved; "Thank god"

"That's the second time now that you've saved me." She was trying to downplay what had happened, but there was a hitch in her tone that told him she was barley holding it together.

He chuckled. "Thank the Castle. Those damn stairs moved on me again."

Before she could say another word he scooped her up.

"Uhh, wait, wait, wait. My wand." She pointed to the 13 inches of Purpleheart "Fetch!"

He raised an eyebrow in mock amusement. "Do I look like a dog to you woman?"

"You came running when your owner was in trouble. So yeah, I think you do." She stuck out her tongue at him as he leaned down, grasping it with some difficulty, but the two managed to right themselves without further problems.

"I'm taking you to the great hall. We've set up a triage center there."

"I can still fight!" She protested.

"I know, but this is your first and only strike, so now it's time for you to cool your heels."

She huffed at the indignity of it, but didn't complain further, instead leaning her head into his chest while he retraced his steps. They fetched that 5th year as well, who got the lecture of his life from McGonagall when they arrived. Turns out he was right. Gryffindor.

Minerva was hardcore, deducted 50 points from Gryffindor despite the castle being under siege and all. The points glass was only half in tact but he clearly saw the golden orbs decrease by a healthy margin.

Carson turned to address his better half after the little show the Headmistress had put on.

"You can help", he stated as if addressing a servant or small child "…and I'll even allow you to play guard. But if you try to leave these people will stun your ass faster than you can say police brutality."

She snorted at the Auror jab. With one last kiss he was off, quickly heading up the stairs once more. They didn't seem to give him any trouble this time around, which he took as a good sign.

His radio though was dead as a doornail, and none of the staff seemed to know how to make the muggle communication devices work around the ambient magic the school was saturated with. For the thousandth time since his passing Carson wished Dumbledore was still alive. He'd charmed the BMW's electronics to function within the School with ease.

The sound of automatic weapons fire and explosions drew him back to the present. Carson supposed he could always find the other by following the noise. Screw the radios. On the 6th floor he finally caught up with his unit.

They'd cleared all of the 5th and were just mopping up the final pockets on the sixth. A messenger came running just then, informing then between gulps of air that two squads of Aurors were waiting to breach the seventh and final floor of the castle. A sonorous shouting 'phoenix tears' would signal the start of the Assault.

Carson and his S.I.C pulled out The Marauders map that Harry had loaned him yesterday. He was surprised at how quickly his old platoon mate had accepted the entire situation, but the former Master Sargent seemed to be closer to this world than previously thought.

Seems his niece had shown some odd abilities about a year ago. She was currently attending Salem Institute of Magic. _'She'll be a bonified Witch in a few years'_ , Mendez had stated proudly a few months ago.

Looking back down at the yellowed parchment he noted dozens of names attached to quick moving footprints that faded like water washing over a beach. With the exact whereabouts of the combatants known they filed back into the classroom and drew up a crude layout of the breaching points on the chalkboards.

"The Sargent here will run interference and engage the enemy along the eastern stairwell after detonating the charges on these doors. The wizards will no doubt return fire through the dust and debris, allowing the bulk of the unit to slip in here."

He pointed at a secret passage that connected the 5th and 6th floor. The map showed that the entrance was unguarded, meaning the holed up Death eaters most likely weren't aware of its existence.

"After taking out the initial guard force groups of 4 men will fan out like this. Use flash bangs like they're going out of style. These guys will be desperate, and as you all know cornered animals tend to bite. Fight smart and stay alive. Avoid the green ones at all cost. All right, lets show these wand waving f**kers how Marines do it. OHHRAH."

" OHHRAH " a chorus of men hollered back.

oOo

The plan had worked well. Untrained by their standards, the dark wizards fell by the dozens, with only minimal casualties being taken amongst the defenders. Anti-apparition wards were lifted, only for the retreating foes to discover that the Order had raised their own. Brooms were in short supply, and like the Lieutenant predicted the outnumbered Death eaters were fighting tooth and nail..

The Marines, having received close Quarters Combat training were especially involved. Shotguns firing slugs had enough mass to shatter most shield spells, and quickly became a key tool in clearing occupied spaces.

When the final body hit the cold stone floor, the sun was already beginning it's ascend over the horizon. Carson was wiped, but things were far from over by the sounds of it. The hospital wing had been completely vacated, Madam Pomfrey having decided the great hall would serve that purpose better.

The scene inside was organized chaos. Able bodied students rushed back and forth carrying gauze and bandages. Several mediwitches were sprinkled throughout the mass of moaning and whimpering survivors. His former combat medic was neck deep in a gruesome looking field OP, trying to remove a splintered chair leg from a person's thigh.

He wanted to find Tonks. Make sure she was all right. But before he could do so his men needed guidance. They moved on, exiting the castle and climbing over debris to enter the courtyard. There, what was left of the Order was busy fortifying defenses. He ordered his men to secure the position and salvage what remained of the MG's.

Carson then went to look for McGonagall.

He found her moving the few remaining Stone guards into a defensive position around a collapsed wall, which had become their de facto entrance due to the pile of spiders in the actual entryway.

" _Ma'am, we've secured the castle."_ The usual familiarity when he talked was gone. Right now he wasn't her former colleague, but a soldier. A defender of this castle.

"She nodded in understanding. _"How bad?"_

He relaxed minutely and relayed what he knew. "My platoon is wary but still combat effective. We've incurred 17 dead and three wounded."

The casualty figures were staggering. Out of nearly sixty men and women only forty remained. He didn't, couldn't think of the comrades that had died. They all knew each other from 5 years ago. The gaps in his men's ranks were blatantly obvious, at least to them. Morale was low.

It had been a rough night, not just for them. Rows of bodies' draped in sheets were laid out next to the main hall. And those were just the friendlies. Entire classrooms were stacked to the ceiling with corpses, cooling and stasis charms applied to the walls to keep the mass of bodies from decaying too rapidly.

The giants and spiders were still being cleared, simply thrown into the deep chasm below. The other side of the bridge looked even worse.

The former Transfiguration professor looked confused. Her eyes kept darting to the bodies being cleared.

"I'm very sorry about your subordinates Mr. Wolf."

Carson nodded soberly. "Voldemort is still out there. My men will salvage what we can and reform a defensive perimeter. Did Mr. Potter find what he was looking for? It may be necessary to abandon the castle if the next attack is as bad as the last."

Minerva for the first time seemed coherent.

"Quite frankly I haven't seen him since the start of the battle." She marched over to her heads of house. "Pomona, Fillius, please gather Mr. Potters friends. Perhaps they can tell us where he is."

The shell shocked Headmistress remained to gaze upon the wreckage that was her school. They'd held onto it by a thread. But at what cost?

Carson wanted to support the Woman, and he would. But first his troop needed guidance.

"Sergeant, divide the unit into two. Half on guard duty, the other half gets some chow. Stay close, and come back in 30 to rotate. Get some caffeine into them. I have a feeling this isn't the last of it." The Helmetless NCO saluted before harking out orders.

His remaining men scattered, setting up the heavy MG's. The remainder formed a defensive perimeter around them. He couldn't let them get taken out again. Perhaps McGonagall can spare some wands to defend the stationary targets this time. Carson checked in with his only Sniper team via a pair of Lookie talkies, and with assurances that they could warn of another attack he headed back inside.

oOo

Her feet were sore. She wasn't sure if it was from the extra weight or the last 24 hours in general. With the classic 'hands resting on her waist stomach pushed out' position Tonks paused for a moment to look around.

A majority of the wounded had been stabilized and tended to. Pomfry had just finished patching up a grumbling Hestia and was assisting the muggle combat medic, Chavez was his name. She was actually surprised at how knowable the young man was.

While not as quick as the School nurse, he had saved a number of lives today. Now though everyone looked to be at the end of their rope. Many of the more inexperienced students had been killed or seriously injured, but the Order it seemed was more or less intact.

A few moments later Carson entered the great hall, paused to scan through the crowd, and located her before finally wrapped his arms around her growing midriff.

"How are you holding up?" Tonks closed her eyes and smiled weakly, sliding her own smaller hands over his.

"Alive and kicking. In more ways than one actually" Tonks guided his hand over a bit. Sure enough, there it was. The precious small moment of happiness didn't last long however. The lookie talky he'd given to Rodriguez, their marksman currently perched on the very spot Tonks had shown him so long ago began to squawk.

"Sir, we've got movement coming from the Treeline to the East." The Corporal proceeded to give him a rough headcount. It numbered in the hundreds. It seemed they weren't out of the Woods yet.

"All able bodied persons assemble outside" the former Professor hollered. "Round two is about to begin!"

Seeing her chance at redemption Tonks marched out as well, the look on her face saying it all. Carson shook his head and whispered a quick prayer to whatever deity that actually sat up there to keep her safe.

Two minutes later Carson slid into the hastily dug foxhole holding one of their remaining MG's and accepted a pair of field binoculars from the gunner. Something was wrong. There was a large group of enemies approaching, but the odd thing was that it was led by the groundskeeper, Hagrid.

The bridge was still totaled, so everyone wondered why they'd try reach the far side of the ravine. Then the pale tall figure to the Half Giants left conjured up the replacement pieces for the bridge as if it was child splay.

Cursing, the Marine Lieutenant was about to order his men to open fire, but stopped when he saw the unmoving figure of Mr. Potter in Hagrid's arms. Fingers on the triggers (in in the M2's case buttons) the defenders waited, allowing the enemies to cross unhindered.

"Harry Potter…is dead!" the smug voice of Lord Voldemort proclaimed in triumph. Jumping from the recently unclogged front entryway came a Redhead, looking quite flustered. Without any regard for her continued wellbeing the stupid girl shouted in defiance at what was arguably Britain's most powerful Wizard. Out in the open.

Cursing, Carson lifted himself out of the foxhole and sprinted towards her.

Voldemort of course took note of the battle seasoned muggle, a look of disgust forming on his face.

"Ahh, the infamous Carson Wolf. Come to die at last I see."

Carson rolled his eyes, terrified of course, but he wasn't about to let it show to this asshole.

"Well, then you must be Voldemort. You know, I've been trying to figure out what you look like ever since I heard about you."

….

"Say, What happened to your nose?"

Utter silence followed.

"YOU DARE?" Voldemort screamed. Insulted by a muggle, the nose-less Dark Lord nearly flipped his shit at the offhand question. Carson grinned, simply out of habit.

"Well considering I've done a decent job at giving your followers a good run for their money I'd say yeah, I do dare."

With almost inhuman speed Voldmert cast a Crucio at the cheeky muggle, one that was narrowly missed by sidestepping and turning his shoulder.

As if sensing his cue, Harry Potter rolled out of Hagrid's arms and landed in a head on the stone ground. Firing off a yellow curse that bounced off the creepy Python next to Voldemort he scrambled to his feet and hoped over an intact wall and into the viaduct.

Carson and Ginny forgotten, the Dark Lord hollered in disbelief and rage, firing off curses rapidly at the retreating Potter.

Carson wasted no time dragging the confused Weasley girl back behind cover. Reasonably happy with their location, he hollered "OPEN FIRE!"

Behind their rubble strewn cover the remaining Hogwarts defenders did just that. If the last skirmish had seemed sloppy, this one was infinitely more so. It was pure and utter Chaos. The noise alone was enough to overwhelm someone.

Spells, gunfire and shouts echoed from the ancient castle and combatants from both sides fell by the dozens. Carson added his own two cents into the mix, taking a few pot shots at the snake, which seemed to be oddly bullet proof. Somewhat pissed, the serpent lunged forward, eager to smite the annoying human.

With the girl still behind him oblivious to the danger the fatigued American held out his A2. The snake bit into the upper receiver, visibly deforming the MILLED ALUMINUM it was made of. Deciding that the odds weren't in his favour Carson let go of his weapon and dragged the redhead with him.

Luckily the Blackhawk they'd kept in reserve chose that moment to make an appearance.

oOo

Despite being stripped of its defensive wards Hogwarts still radiated an exuberant amount of magical energy. The intersecting lay lines it sat on amplified this phenomenon. The Blackhawk helicopter therefor, just like last time shuddered as it passed into the invisible field of energy, but unlike Azkaban the electronics did not restart.

The Pilot had been warned that this was a possibility, and manually engaged a clutch mechanism called a freewheeling unit, essentially putting the aircraft in 'neutral'. The helicopter would then glide much like an airplane would thanks to Autorotation, where elevation would be traded for a substantial percentage of lift, easing the Helo into a controlled landing.

With that in mind the Pilot had reached a relatively lofty altitude of 8000 feet prior to entering this Bermuda triangle of sorts, allowing him to make several passes around the target area. With unlimited fuel this moment had taken several hours, with another 5 of flight time just to get up to Scotland from Wales. Needless to say he was ready to get of the thing and just stretch his legs.

With the battle resuming in the courtyard of the castle the Helo had swooped in, its Miniguns blazing. The numerical advantage the Death eaters still possessed quickly ended. Curses flung at the muggle death machine didn't even come close to hitting, seeing how it was several kilometers away.

The downside was that after the initial strafing runs the gunners had to be reallllly careful with where they pointed the mini guns. Their job complete, the Marine pilot picked a relatively flat and most importantly straight road a ways from the castle. The front landing gear would take the worst of it, doubly so because all the big gray bird had under the tail assembly was a silly little wheel.

Twenty feet above the asphalt the helicopter suddenly lifted its nose rapidly, turning most of its forward momentum into upwards throughst and slowing down the multi ton military chopper. The back gently touched the hard black surface of the road before the front tipped forward again. The suspension groaned as the two large wheels near the front slammed down.

The bird actually bounced once, gaining about two feet of air. Stomping on the rudimentary brake pedal for the wheels the Blackhawk ground to a halt, and everyone on board let out a relieved sigh.

A quick systems check confirmed they had made it out of the dome and that nothing had rattled loose during the hard landing. With a whine the engine restarted and the pilot eased his bird over the treeline and towards Hogsmeade.

oOo

Voldemort let out a frustrated scream as the muggle flying machine unleashed a stream of hot metal at his followers. Some threw up shield charms while others returned fire, but the sheer volume of incoming rounds shredded through the mass of bodies no matter what they did.

His men were being butchered by Muggles! How was this possible? Minutes before all had seemed perfect. The only threat to his unconditional reign had been removed, and he was about to seize the most famous school in all of Wizarding Britain.

Effortlessly flinging a several defenders away Voldemort gave chase to his Arch Nemesis, pet snake in tow.

With their superior range and cover the Order and remaining Marines easily held their ground against the surviving Death Eaters. Voldemort had shade jumped into the Castle through a broken window.

They had no idea where he was, but several students and a few of his Marines headed back into the castle to assist. With their leader chasing the boy who faked his own death the few dozen or so remaining followers began to realize that things might not pan out the way they thought. It was slow, but with capitulation it always was. One cloaked figure raised his hands, Wand clattering to the ground. Then another, and as more and more did so mob mentality kicked in. They'd been beaten, forced to cower behind conjured barriers or heaps of rubble.

The order to cease fire was hollered down the length of the viaduct and courtyard. Carson ordered two of his Marines to approach, rifles raised.

"On the ground, hands folded behind your heads!" Several more Soldiers and a few Wizards and witches joined the first two, carrying large plastic zip tie cuffs. In the span of ten minutes the surviving Death Eaters and few Snatchers were secured and sat around the low walls of the castle courtyard.

A sizable pile of wands sat next to the fountain, ready to be snapped or burned. With the battle won, it was time to take tie up the last loose thread. Carson was about to send the bulk of their forces to sweep the castle.

Turns out he needn't have bothered. Harry and Voldemort literarily appeared out of nowhere, both landing in a heap in front of the main Bridge but quickly recovering and starting a wand Duel.

Green and gold bands of light slashed, fizzling where they met.

Nym's hand found Carson's. They may have won, but right now it was up to the kid to finish it for good.

"Go Harry!" the muggle hollered. "Kick his ass!"

A single cheeky Death eater cheered for his master but was quickly cuffed on the back of the head and gagged. Several dozen Wands and rifles were now trained on the Dark Lord just in case, but most joined in and began cheering for savior of the Wizarding World. The gold light surged at the positive reinforcement, and for a second it looked as though Potter was grinning. This was it. It was ending!

With a gasp of surprise Voldemort lost his concentration. Harry's disarming spell hit true and the oddly shaped Wand Voldemort had arced through the air.

Disarmed and looking shocked the greatest dark Lord since Grindelwald groaned before blowing away in the breeze, turned to ash.

For several moments no one breathed. Then the crowd roared and cheered. Carson couldn't hear his own voice over all the noise. Without much warning he leaned down and picked up his wife, propping her up by the waist.

She laughed, placing her hands on his shoulders as he spun her around. Sliding down a bit, they locked lips in celebration.

Harry was mobbed by well-wishers and his friends. The poor kid looked overwhelmed but was grinning ear to ear. He held up the Elderwand and the crowd cheered once more.

"Staff Sergeant Mendez, can I leave the prisoners in your care?" Billy saluted and nodded, a smile on his face. Carson just nodded, not wanting to let go of Tonks just yet. The first students were starting to trickle back into the castle, exited chatter having replaced the oppressive silence of the previous night. On his way inside the fatigued Lieutenant spotted his rifle, bent and broken. He briefly wondered what the hell had happened to the snake.

Only later did he learn that Badass Neville Longbottom had BEHEADED the damn thing with a thousand year old sword.

Kingley and Remus took several Wizards and Witches to the ministry shortly after the battle to project some semblance of power before Pius Thicknesse got any funny Ideas. What no one expected was for Schakelbolt to come back as intern minister.

Two days after the battle the dead from both sides were laid to rest. Carson's men that had perished were honoured but ultimately their remains sent back to the States, and their families informed. A large bronze plaque showing the well-known Marines insignia was erected on the school grounds, along with their names, former rank, and a brief summary of events.

Harry Potter became more and more reclusive in the coming days, attempting to fly under the radar as every Magical news outlet tried to set up interviews. He spent much of his time at the burrow when he wasn't at the castle.

Likewise, Carson and Tonks had moved back into their old quarters in the school, opting to stay there for the time being and helping with the cleanup efforts. The marines were temporarily bunking with the Hufflepuffs, seeing how Gryffindor tower was packed to the gills with Ravenclaws and the dungeons were still flooded. They were happy to be out of the Warehouse, even if it was expanded. Mendez especially liked leading the morning run around the lake.

Classes actually resumed a mere week later, much to the disappointment of the students. Carson had specifically asked for grief councillors from St. Mungo's and some muggle institutions to be housed at the school until further notice.

Likewise, PTSD was likely with many of these kids. It had been a hard thing to experience. Hell, even he would wake up on some night drenched in sweat, always experiencing the same thing.

Bellatrix Lestrange standing over Tonks' body when he rounded that hallway corridor. It had scarred his Psyche enough to become a repetitive thing. Perhaps he should talk to someone as well.

Kingsley threw his weight as minister behind each and every suggestion the Lieutenant made, making the process quite easy. The couple took a few days to visit his folks in Seattle. Pete and Carmel were relieved to hear the conflict was over, and already booked a set of British Airways tickets to the UK a week before Tonks' expected due date. They'd declined the offer of port key after hearing their son describe the odd mode of travel a few months back.

Thankfully the couple had talked Carmel out of having a proper wedding ceremony until after little Riley was set to make her appearance. Tonks would be the envy of every new mother with her metamorphic ability, shedding the extra baby fat in a few short seconds.

The day finally came where Carsons old team prepared to depart back to the US of A. The ministry set up a conference and fare well party in Diagon, with Fred and George Weasley handling the catering and gift bags. The muggles received the Wizarding Equivalent of the Victoria Cross despite not actually having a standing military.

They'd be welcomed here at any time should they choose to visit, or even wish to move. A few men had considered it, having formed their own relationship bonds with Magical like he had. Carson and Tonks promised to visit Mendez and attend the graduation ceremony when his niece graduated from Salem.

"So" he casually asked his Partner on their way to Florean Fortescue's ice cream Parlor. **"** We should probably plan our Honeymoon getaway soon."

"Hmm", the Bubblegum haired witch replied. "You reckon that Island you kidnapped me too will do?"

"Yeah, I bet it would. I just gotta track down the elf that sent us there and get the location out of him."

Finished! Holy crap, I can't believe it's done. It's been a ton of fun to write this, and I thank each and every one of you that's liked, fav'd, or written a review. If I can ask you to simply write what you thought of the story in a line or two I'd really appreciate it. That's all I have to say, so for now for now I'll just say wolfd890 signing off.


	14. Epilogue

**Chapter 13: Epilogue**

All right, so one of the Guest reviews called me out on the Weak ending, and yeah, he or she is right. About 20 min before bed last night I started on the Epilogue. It's nothing special, but I hope it ties the story up in a better fashion.

 **Tonks/Wolf family Home, Western Suburb of Hayes, London July 23rd, 2012**

Professor Carson Tonks ne' Wolf was sitting at the breakfast table flipping through some sort of tinsel town trash magazine his Wife liked to read, for no other reason than it lying on the table. It was a week before school started, and Nym had just finished pulling an all-nighter at the ministry, courtesy of her new position as the head of the DMLE.

Looking rather defeated the usually chipper woman dragged herself from the Floo in the living room and straight past her coffee sipping Husband.

"Hey hon, have a good shift?"

Tonks grunted, though he wasn't sure if it was in confirmation or not. Ever since she'd been promoted to head the department the amount of work she did increased tenfold. While Carson did feel bad that she was now being worked to the bone he no longer had to argue with the woman about the danger she continually subjected herself to as an Auror squad leader, something that had robbed her spouse of a lot of sleep in the last 15 years.

Perhaps she'd finally cave soon and take up a position at Hogwarts, the pajama clad muggle mused. The Metamorph would make an excellent DADA teacher, and besides the current fellow was grinded his gears. Even Riley disliked him, and that was saying something coming from the Puff.

Speaking of his eldest daughter, he needed to go to Diagon soon to purchase her fourth year texts and supplies. The girl actually had the gall to drop Muggle studies in favor of Arithmancy. Ok, math was a pretty good skill to have, but still.

It stings.

Normally Tonks took her to the magical district, but well…every little chore he could handle right now helped her from turning into a cranky Tonks. And a cranky Tonks was bad news. Honestly, she could make you disappear. The Woman answered to no one now!

The stairs creaked again, leading him to believe Riley had finally gotten her butt in gear. Honestly, even when he was her age Carson had never slept that long during summer break. It came as a surprise then when he saw Tonks return to the kitchen.

"Forgot something honey?"

She looked at him and blinked, finally snapping out of her stupor.

"Err, no…sweetheart." Her voice hitched on the last word. "I simply wanted to talk about Riley's Hogsmeade permission slips."

"Oh? Weren't we going to punish her for impersonating Minnie last year?"

Riley had somehow found out the Headmistress was leaving the School for business and impersonated the elderly Witch. Hufflepuff had gained over three hundred points that day, and half of Slytherin had detention with Finch. The last part ultimately got her busted. As Carson always liked to say; 'Don't bite off more than you can chew'

"Yeah. I've given the matter some further thought, and think we might have overreacted. Heck, she's no different from how I was at that age."

Carson grinned. "Well you are the head of the DMLE now. I'm sure you'd know best."

Tonks smiled back sweetly. "Great. I'm going to head to bed now. Could you be a dear and sign her slips before School starts?"

Carson nodded. "Sure thing."

The Bubblegum haired Witch ascended back up the stairs. But instead of heading towards the master bedroom she entered the bedroom further down the hall. Closing the door with a sigh Tonks morphed, shrinking almost a foot. The pink hair turned light blue and grew to reach the middle of her back. Removing a hair tie out of her now baggy Auror robes Riley pulled the long strands into a low ponytail.

After changing the young girl trotted down the stairs and joined her clueless father at the table.

"Morning dad."

"Oh, hey Squirt. Sleep well?"

Riley shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

Carson sighed. Lately his oldest had started acting aloof around him and his wife. A crying shame, considering how happy she was before hitting the teens. On the other hand, the girl had a mischievous streak a mile wide, something which she got entirely from her mother. Thank god the boys hadn't shown signs of that happening. He was running out of creative ways to ground them.

"So, looks like mom decided to cut you some slack for the whole McGonagall incident. You're allowed to go to Hogsmeade come September."

"Really?" the surprise was of course faked, but required for the plan none the less.

"Mhmmm. Anyway, today I think we should buy your gear for the coming term."

The girl nodded and began pouring herself a bowl of cereal. Dad was going to take her this year? Well, it was to be expected with her Mother working herself to the bone. Perhaps she'd be able to sucker him into buying her a new broom. After all, both of the Huffelpuff beaters and one of the chasers were now graduated, meaning she stood a chance to make the team.

Carson set the magazine aside and rallied the troops. The boys had been up hours ago, and were currently outside exploring god knows what. They mostly stayed out of trouble, hence the lack of supervision. Recently their youngest had started showing signs of accidental magic, but Eric, who was eight hadn't. Carson could tell it worried the kid, and quite frankly his Parents as well.

If he turned out to be a Squib, a word Carson still loathed, they'd have to send him to a muggle school. How that would impact their schedule was something he and Tonks would have to talk about. But they still had three years to figure it out.

Much like her father, Riley was deep in thought, almost functioning on autopilot. The house was fairly quiet despite getting the kids ready. Not that it mattered. Tonks usually threw up some wicked sound canceling charms around their room.

The only non-magical way to get to Diagon was by car. The Floo system still hated him, and the feeling was mutual. The boys were strapped into their boosters, while the Blue haired girl rode shotgun.

The big 3.0L H6 roared to life within the Legacy Estate he'd purchased a mere two months ago. Every time Carson sat in it his face instantly broke out into a childish grin. But who wouldn't?

The thing had a full STi package complete with 6 speed dual clutch manual gear box, a big torquey 6 cylinder turbo diesel, and permanent all-wheel drive! The M3 had of course been retired long ago. The Students had simply been too much for the already fatigued machine, and runes could only do so much.

The drive took only 20 minutes. It was a Tuesday morning after all, and the rush-hour traffic had ebbed over an hour ago. Parking on the muggle side of the leaky cauldron, the Hogwarts Professor tossed a few quid into the parking meter and ushered the kids inside.

"Hi Tom, how goes it?"

The glass cleaning bar keep waived but was otherwise quiet. Bastard Death Eaters had cut his vocal cords back in early '98 after he was overheard talking about the resistance. Fortunately the perpetrators died during the siege. Tom had since become quite proficient at silent casting. When young Miss Abott, sorry Longbottom took over the place she'd kept old Tom here to run the bar.

They exited the bar and Riley did the honors of tapping the brick with the tip of her wand, all the while muttering about how useless he was without her. He cuffed her upside the head lightly.

Diagon alley looked the same as it always had. Outdated and stuck in the 18th century. They went through the motions and bought what she needed and some of what she wanted. He didn't cave on the broom, but instead they settled on a bolt on mod kit that would squeeze an extra few ponies of magical juice out of her old Firebolt.

For some reason Dad kept calling her broom 'ricer' now, though why she didn't know.

With their older sister getting all of this cool new stuff the boys had to be appeased with something as well. Luckily they weren't overly materialistic and settled for ice cream and a future visit to the Weasleys Wizarding Wheezies Supercenter. The latter concerned him somewhat. Those portable swamps were no joke.

Arms laden with bags and trunks that couldn't be feather weighted the family returned to their car. The spacious back held it all he was proud to note. With a quick pit stop to a nearby muggle grocery store for milk the Family headed back home.

The last week passed quickly, and before he knew it they found themselves in front of a steaming candy apple red Locomotive. Riley quickly found her friends but had to endure a farewell hug, even though she'd likely see both of her parents tonight at the Opening feast.

The boys as always begged to go with her, and as always had to be hauled away, disappointed looks on their faces. The family of 5 minus one left the station shortly thereafter. Tonks was dropped off at the Ministries visitor entrance.

"See you tonight!" Don't throw to many people in jail today!"

The witch snorted and kissed her goofy Husband, then waived to the boys, both pressed up against the glass of the back window.

"Bye mom!"

She planted a big lipstick covered kiss on the glass, earning her a protest form the driver before she descended down the phone booth.

He'd need to get home fast. The house would have to be mothballed now that they were going back to live at the castle for the semester.

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry September 27th, 2012**

Carson was dozing in front of the fire in his far too comfortable LayZboy recliner on a Saturday Evening in late September. Fall it seemed had arrived early, and the temperature up in the Scottish Highlands quickly dipped into the single digits after sunset.

Grading last week's work had taken most of the day, but the Muggle Studies professor had found the time to indulge a bit as well, a sci-fi novel currently folded across his lap.

With a whoosh the flames turned green and the demonic looking face of his Wife appeared in the embers.

"Carson! CARSON!"

Oh boy, this wasn't good. She hadn't looked this mad since finding all of her Work robes with the stiches inside out last year. The great thing about being a muggle was that he couldn't get blamed for anything. Let's hope whatever had her in this mood hadn't grown on his pile of sh- cow manure.

"Nym? Are you still at work?"

"Of course I am!" She snapped, immediately regretting it. She sucked in a deep breath to collect herself.

"SO you'll never guess who I ran into today in Hogsmeade." The now awake Professor remained silent, inviting her to continue.

"Our Daughter." She growled. "And guess what she told me? YOU SIGNED HER PERMISSION SLIP!"

The confused muggle was scratching his head. "Um, hon. You're the one who told me to let her off the hook about a week before school started. You even asked me to sign her slip yours-"

Realization dawned on his face. "That little…"

"Yeah. She tricked your arse good." Tonks stated dryly, also having made the connection.

"Damn Metamorphs! Carson muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Tonks decided to ignore the comment.

"Ohhh, just wait. She's in for it now."

Ember Tonks showed the first signs of a smile then. "Listen, I gotta go. Some yahoos decided it would be great to try and rob Gringotts today. Bloody mess, and I'm not saying that in the usual way."

Carson cringed. The goblins could be quite vicious, and were always looking for a fight. The Diagon branch probably looked like a Kill bill scene right now.

"All right hon. I'll keep the fire stoked for when you get back. And tomorrow we can hash out a revenge plot for our dear Daughter."

At this the head of the DMLE smiled. Oh yes, this should be good.

oOo

Riley Tonks ne Wolf had really screwed the pooch this time. Not intentionally, but who ever did? No, it was sheer fluke that Mom had been in Hogsmeade at the same time the first School trip had happened. In hindsight, it would have been better to say she'd just snuck out of the castle.

But nooo, in the heat of the moment and on the receiving end of the killer stare she'd blurted that Dad signed her form. OF COURSE her mom would follow up with him later, and then the cat would really be out of the bag.

She'd skipped breakfast in order to avoid her parental figures sitting at the staff table, but it was coming up on noon and the few morsels of food her friends had brought her weren't cutting it anymore. It was time to face the firing squad. With a look of dread she headed down to the Great Hall. She changed her hair color to a disinteresting brown and tried to stay close to the larger 6th and seventh years in order to fly under the Radar. Much to her surprise neither Mom nor Dad came to find her.

Just when Riley thought she was home free the main doors burst open and a squad of four senior Aurors, including Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley marched in. Heads turned as the legendary individuals confidently strode between the long tables. They formed a loose semi-circle around her seat, faces rigid and without an ounce of humor.

"Ms. Riley Tonks ne Wolf", Auror Potter said in an even voice, which actually impressed his fellow squad mates. They all knew the little troublemaker from the various parties and get-togethers each hosted for their own kids. Getting to lay the cuffs on her was oh so satisfying.

"You are under arrest for the impersonation of a high ranking ministry official. Please rise and place your hands behind your back. Do not reach for your wand." Carson and Nym watched with barley suppressed grins as their daughter's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

Potter then went so far as to read her the Standard Miranda rights. "Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to a layer. If you cannot afford a layer one will be provided to you by the State."

By then Riley was thoroughly freaking out. She begged and pleaded but to no avail. Director Tonks would order her released tomorrow morning, just in time for first class. But she didn't know that.

"C'mon guys. This isn't funny. Let me go!"

It looked almost comical as the large, battle-hardened Aurors cuffed the 13 year old and hauled her out of the Hall. Minerva actually smiled. Most of the students were utterly shocked.

Unseen by most except a select few, the Muggle studies teacher and head of the DMLE bumped fists before returning to finish their lunch. No one messed with them.

NO ONE!

-Fin

Not bad for something cooked up in less than a day IMO. This really is it now. Again I thank everyone for their Favs, follows, and words of wisdom during these last few months. It's been a hoot.


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